Five Hertz of Separation

CHAPTER FIFTY SIX

“She has seen them! The witch has seen them!” I shout as I light the shell’s fuse. The fuse burns. And burns. And burns until finally reaching the base of the shell which sputters for just the barest moment before whooshing high into the air, a black stream of hot gasses trailing behind against the bright blue sky. The rocket arcs over just a bit at the top before exploding with a resounding boom that echoes down the valley.

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

“What in Zaphod’s name was that, Sergeant?”

“Don’t know, Corporal. Sounded like the fireworks they use to celebrate the Queen’s birthday. The old Queen I mean. Not the new one. Don’t exactly know when her birthday is.” I turn to the men standing around me. “Any of you lads know when the new Queen’s birthday is?”

“Be nice if it was soon. We get an extra ration of Klatch, don’t we?” answers one of the new men. Haven’t got their names locked in my head yet.

“We will if I have anything to say about it. Pick up your bindles boys, let’s go check it out.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for the Lieutenant, Sergeant Timbler?” asks the new Corporal, name of Lichmer I think. Thank Zaphod for ranks.

“The way I see it, Corporal, that was a signal of some kind. Could be good news, could be bad news, but them rebels were trying to get us to leave this area so we better find out why they was doing that. The Lieutenant shouldn’t have any trouble finding us.”

Which tain’t a good thing.

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

The loud explosion draws my attention away from the argument with Denson as we both turn our heads to the north. We can see the remains of the rocket, a small black splotch with a fading tail against a clear blue sky.

“What was that?” she asks.

“I have no idea,” I honestly answer.

My radio beeps.

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

A rocket-propelled grenade. I’ve seen pictures. It looks Russian, that classic green and brown. There’s a loud hissing sound behind me and I turn just in time to see a small rocket shoot into the air below me but it flies right by, way over to my right. Wasn’t even close. I follow its flight with my eyes until it explodes with a loud bang that reverberates back and forth between the hills on either side of me.

Suddenly, all the men below me flee the scene, including the ones that were supposedly dead or injured. At the same time, other men pop up all around me, throwing dirt colored covers off. They are standing in holes dug into the hillside and each one is packing the same rocket-propelled grenade.

One half of my brain is screaming “TRAP!” but I can’t seem to move. All the other half of my brain can think is “I’m pregnant”! Lilly launches herself skyward, jerking me back into action. I punch my headset as we claw at the air, fighting to gain altitude, the sound of multiple launches behind us filling my ears.

“IT”S A TRAP!” I scream. “IT”S A GOD DAMN TRAP! THEY’VE GOT RPG’S. SEND HELP! OH PLEASE GOD, NOT MY BABY. IT’S A TRAP, GENERAL! FLY LILLY! FLY!”

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

“What did she say?” demands Denson.

“Not now!”

I grab the bi-nok-u-lars off the table and quickly focus on the spot where I last saw Lilly. The wait is unbearable but I finally see her crest the hill and climb higher in the sky. There are also some other things in the air with her, small, brightly burning things that are rising faster than she is. They will catch her in milicycles. One of them explodes behind her, then another.

“What is happening?!” Denson screams.

“I don’t know.”

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

I hear the two explosions behind me and my heart stops beating for a moment. I’m not hit. Which means those RPG’s didn’t hit anything, they just exploded in midair. Which means that the damned things are working on a timer of some kind and it doesn’t matter if I dodge them. They’re like depth charges and I’m the sub.

I quickly scan the area around me. There are two to my left and three to my right, all different heights and they could go off any milicycle. Lilly’s not fast enough to get away and even if I fly by myself, it’s too late. Max protection means I fall from the sky but it’s my only chance.

I kick away from Lilly, who instantly disappears. With a momentary burst of speed, I angle up and away from the RPG’s that surround me and then concentrate every ioata of magic that I can tap into a dense, protective shell as I become a free flying object on a ballistic trajectory. The first shock wave hits me right after the nearest grenade explodes.

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

We can’t see shit, what with the canopy of trees around us, but we could certainly hear a lot of explosions. I think I spotted the Queen’s dragon, wings beating faster than I ever seen, through a gap in the trees but it only lasted a milicycle. Then them explosions started.

“Look about brightly, lads,” I shout. “Looks like we are into it up to our arseholes again. What ever ‘it’ is.”

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

I lost track when Lilly vanished. For a milicycle, I thought I saw the Queen in the air by herself and then she too vanished but she seemed to move in a particular direction. That is when the remaining bright objects exploded, but not all at the same time.

Denson cried out in anguish but I kept scanning the sky with the bi-nok-u-lars. It feels like decicycles but I eventually spot something. It appears to be a person but they are not flying. When Alexia flies, it is head first, arms tucked to her side. This person is completely out of control, rolling, spinning, arms and legs flailing about. It must be Alexia but things are not right. She continues to rise in the sky but is slowing. She reaches a peak, holds there for but a moment then begins to fall back to the ground, still out of control. I reach out and grab Denison by the arm, jerking her next to me. I drop the bi-nok-u-lars from my eyes but quickly see the small figure in the sky that is Alexia.

“There!” I shout, pointing in the Queen’s direction, tracking her with my extended finger. “That is Alexia, falling to her death! You must do something immediately or she dies.”

“What can I do? I am not strong enough!”

“Only you can save her! Do it NOW!”

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

She escaped! That Zaphod riding harlot of a witch escaped! I turn to face General Tasher.

“She escaped! How is that possible? It was the perfect plan! And now she just flies away as if …”

The General is not looking at me but at the retreating view of Alexia.

“She is not flying, Dupree. See for yourself.”

My eyes are not as sharp as his.

“I see nothing, Tasher!”

“She does not fly, she falls!”

There is hope yet.

“Gather the men! I want her alive or her dead body! Go now!”

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

I freeze in fear. It is Leeanna and the snakes all over again. I could not take action that night and now, with Alexia falling before my eyes, I feel helpless. Packer is demanding that I do something but I know not what to do.

“I cannot reach her!” I scream.

“Then reach out to her! There is no time!”

I remember Alexia’s trick with her protective shield, the use of the air itself to slow or stop a bullet. I send a blast of air in her direction and keep sending more and more, straining to the limits of my power.

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

A mighty wind appears from nowhere, shaking the trees to their very roots. What is strange is that the wind seems to begin very low to the ground then suddenly wells up and flies skyward, taking all manner of leaves, grass, twigs and dirt with it, nearly blinding everyone. The men are looking very worried as they search for cover against the wind and the debris it carries.

“What is happening, Sergeant?” Corporal Lichmer shouts, trying to be heard over the howling, swirling gale.

“Clearly, witches work!” I shout back. “Have the lads hunker down and hold position. It can’t last forever! Jillian’s mercy, this one’s a real ox lifter!”

Suddenly, something big comes crashing through the trees about fifty decileagues to my left. It hits the ground but not as hard as one would expect. Perhaps it was a bear that had been hiding in the tree but dislodged due to the wind. That is all we need, an angry bear chasing us about behind enemy lines. That would get a good laugh back in camp at our expense. It is more likely just a large, broken branch from one of the surrounding trees. The way everything is swaying about, it won’t be long before some of these trees are uprooted or split apart. I look warily about, trying to see if any of the trees hold a lot of big broken branches or look particularly risky. If a tree begins to fall, there may not be time to escape it.

“Keep a sharp eye about, lads!” I bellow. “Watch for falling trees!”

Several of us are crouching down behind the trunk of a long dead tree that fell ages ago.

“Is this our witch or their witch, Sergeant?” Trooper Copperman yells.

“Doesn’t matter, lad. You’ll be just as dead if something crushes your skull.”

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

The strain is too great. I cannot keep it going much longer. Alexia has such exquisite control over her power, such an understanding of how the natural world works that she makes this look easy. The rest of us can only use magic like a blunt tool in comparison to her but that is the only choice right now and I am rapidly running out of magic. I need to hold out as long as I can or Alexia dies.

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

Just as quickly as it arrived, the wind disappears. The sudden silence is almost as frightening as the wind. Almost.

“Head count, Corporal Lichmer,” I calmly order as I stand, brushing the dirt and debris off my uniform.

“Aye, Sergeant!” he snaps back, quickly calling out names and getting replies. Turns out we weathered the storm nicely, no one was hurt, no one lost any equipment.

“Zaphod’s luck was with us,” he adds at the end of his report.

“Can’t rely on that, son. Them gods are a fickle bunch.”

“Did we win that one or lose it, Sergeant?”

“Damned if I know Corporal. Copperman! You and Hoskins head over that way,” I point to my left with a jerk of my thumb “and see what fell out of those trees. If it’s some injured beast, put it out of its misery but be careful. Don’t let it put you out of your misery.”

He salutes. “Never any misery with you around, Sergeant.”

Wise ass. They both trot off at a double quick pace. There could be some meat on tonight’s menu.

“The rest of you slugabeds mount up. We need to find out what is going on around here and then report it. Phillips and Massey will take point and …”

“SERGEANT! COME QUICK! IT’S THE QUEEN!” Hoskin roars.

I take off at a dead sprint, or at least what passes for a dead sprint at my age, towards the grove of trees. Most of the men follow me. I pull up just short of where they are. If this is a trap of some kind, we can’t all run right into it.

“It’s the Queen’s what?” I ask.

Copperman hurries over, grabbing my arm.

“It’s the Queen herself!” he exclaims, dragging me forward several decileagues. By the time I pull my arm free, we are standing next to Hoskin, kneeling next to a crumpled figure, wearing a woman’s version of our uniform, though it is torn and bloody. Hoskin is as white as my granny’s pantaloons.

I close my eyes and cock my head to the side. I can hear men coming from the direction of rebel territory and they aren’t far away.

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

I collapse, landing on my side. General Packer is beside me straight away.

“Are you well?”

“Yes,” I whisper, pausing a moment to gauge the level of magic in the area. “Alexia lives … I think. She is very depleted.”

“How can you be certain?”

“When Opulessa died, we all knew it. A witch of that strength leaves a mark when she dies. There is no such mark for Alexia though she is very weak.”

“Can I leave you here as you are?”

“Yes! Yes! Please go. Find her!”

“My horse!” he shouts. The animal is there in milicycles. He vaults into the saddle.

I struggle to my feet, a Guardsman helping me.

“General! Wait!” I gasp.

He glares at me with a mixture of anger and frustration.

“We do not have time to …”

“Alexia is with child!”

His visage instantly becomes one of total surprise and shock. “The Queen is WITH CHILD?!”

I can only nod my head in confirmation, being too tired to even speak further.

He wheels his horse about and spurs it forward, the animal bounding towards where we last saw Alexia. One of the officers chases after him but the gap between them rapidly increases.

“General! We need to plan this action!”

The General pulls back on the reins, slowing the horse enough for Packer to turn his head back towards the officer.

“The plan is for every man jack to follow me! We ride to save the Queen!”

He turns back and spurs the horse again, galloping with gaining speed through the camp as men scatter about, shouting orders and raising the alarm. All around me there are cries of “We ride to save the Queen!”

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

“Is she alive, Sergeant?”

“How in Zaphod’s name should I know? I tain’t no Healer!”

“Don’t they check the neck or the wrist or something?”

“Shouldn’t we not touch her?”

“I heard you touch the Queen without her permission, you turn into a newt!”

“Be silent the lot of you!” I order loudly.

In their silence, I can better hear the approaching rebels. The woods are thick around us, lots of low brush about, slowing their approach but they’re raising a rucas, not trying to cover their movements at all. The lot of them are searching hard for the Queen and they can’t be more than a hundred decileagues away.

“Look, lads,” I say much more quietly. “There’s nothing for it. We are going to have to leg it out of here and right quick!”

“They always say don’t move an injured woman. That’s what they always say.”

“Corporal, you hear those voices out there? That’s the whole rebel army headed this way. They are looking for her. If we stay here; they capture all of us and her, whether she’s alive or dead. If we run for it and leave her; we escape and they capture her, alive or dead. We pick her up and run for it; we may escape and she ends up back at headquarters, alive or dead. Not much choice here as I see it. Help me get her up on my shoulder.”

Several hands help lift her up and settle her gently over my right shoulder. That’ll be the last gentle thing that’ll happen to her for a while. Don’t see any newts in the crowd so that takes care of that rumor. She’s lighter than she looks but it will still be damn near impossible for me to make any good speed with her like this. I’m not the fastest man on the squad but I can run down every one of them on the long training runs. I’ve got endurance.

I shift her just a little bit so that her stomach is right over my shoulder.

“We do this fast and quiet. Head straight back to our lines. They’ll have to slow down and search while we leg it. There shouldn’t be anyone in front of us but just in case, I want the two fastest men out front.”

Five hands immediately go up. I point to two of them and they head out. I can already feel the weight on my shoulder.

“Last thing. If I go down, nearest men grabs the Queen and you all take off. No one stays behind for me. If that man goes down, nearest man grabs the Queen. Same rules. She got us home. We get her home. Understood?”

There was nothing but quiet determination in the squad. We owe it to her.

“Right. Lead us home, Corporal.”

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

I make good progress in the open plains outside of the camp. I look back behind me several times and do not see any indication of Guardsmen following me, organized or not.

It was foolish to do what I did. No rational General would ever commit his troops to battle by simply pointing to a spot on the horizon and saying “go get them.” We could not afford to wait, however. Dupree had a very smart plan. She put herself within their grasp and Dupree took advantage. Advantage of her good nature and loyalty to her troops. There has never been a Queen in the history of this world that would do something like that for her Guard.

With child.

Is the woman insane?! How could they conspire to keep such information from me? No General has ever lost a Queen to a direct battle. The Queens themselves will battle without any help from their respective Guard but no General has actually lost a Queen, let alone one with child.

When was the last time a Queen was even with child? I thought they discouraged things like that. I don’t know exactly how but I’m certain I read about it or heard something. Madness. Utter madness.

Now that I have reached the tree line, this is much more difficult. There is no way of knowing where Alexia is. The proper thing to do is wait for the men to arrive in strength, establish a grid and then assign specific areas to search. Anything else is simply an emotional response.

Well. I’m here with nothing to do until the rest of the men arrive. I might as well make myself useful. I urge my horse forward and we plunge into the woods. As we slowly amble along, I scan left and right. The height of my mount gives me some advantage but the underbrush is so thick in some areas with brambles and thorned plants that Alexia could be laying at my feet and I would not know it. This is hopeless.

Suddenly, I hear gunfire off to my right, not a half a league away. Where there is trouble, that is where you will find the Queen. I force my horse to speed up over the uneven terrain and bad footing of the forest. It is not to his liking but it cannot be helped. As we near the fight, I stop and dismount, leading the way but keeping a firm grip on the reins. After a few hundred decileagues, I spy a squad of the Guard under fire by what appears to be twice their number of rebels. No one has a superior position so they must have just encountered each other in the woods but the rebels are clearly blocking the path of the Guard from reaching our encampment. Circling wide to the left of the rebels, I am able to come up on the Guard from their flank, whereupon I am stopped by a Guardsman.

“Hold! Who are ye’?”

At least he asked before trying to kill me.

“I am General Packer of the Queen’s Guard.”

“Bulls balls, chumie, and I’m the king of the faeries.”

“Guardsman, I am stepping out slowly. Do not fire upon me.”

I ease out into the open where we can both see each other. His mouth drops open then he signals with his hand for me to come ahead. I tie the reins to a nearby tree and scuttle forward in a bent over crouch. We proceed together, ducking and weaving from tree to tree, avoiding fire, until we reach a sergeant who is standing behind several large rocks with the Queen lying on the ground next to him. He regards me with one raised eyebrow then returns to firing as my guide returns to his post.

“Welcome to the fight, General. Didn’t bring any more with you?”

“They are on their way. Do I know you, Sergeant?”

“Aye, Sir. Sergeant Timbler. We met a few days ago, 3rd Regiment, 12th Squad.”

“You mean this is the same group of men the Queen saved?”

“Aye, Sir. Strange ol’ world, isn’t it.”

“Where’s your Lieutenant, Sergeant Timbler?”

“We sorta lost him, General. He went one way and we went the other. I didn’t like the feel of everything and thought the rebels were up to something. We investigated and found her.” He points to the Queen. “We tried to make it out of the woods but stumbled onto these boys about ten decicycles ago. They’ve sent three runners to get the word out and Pyters over there got two of them and likely winged the third.”

I nod towards a tall, thin Guardsman, holding an old style long rifle instead of the new rifles supplied by the Winthrop Group. He must be the sharp shooter. He smiles in acknowledgement. Timbler continues.

“That may have bought us some time but help better get here soon. I don’t know anything about healing but the Queen needs help right now.”

“Well, luckily, I have my horse with me. If we can just get her back the way I came, there’s a good chance …”

The Guardsman I first met slides to a stop on his hands and knees next to us.

“Beggin’ the General’s pardon, but your horse has been shot. He’s down.”

Damn! So much for the fast escape.

“Looks like I’m not much help here, Sergeant.”

“Not to worry, Sir. We can always use another finger to pull a trigger.”

“Unfortunately, in my haste to get here, I forgot my weapon.”

The Sergeant looks at me as if I was a raw recruit but says nothing. He fires two more rounds then glances down at the Queen.

“General, we can’t stay here. We’re running out of supplies and every second the Queen is here the more dangerous it is for her.”

“I could not agree more, Sergeant. If you would lend me your rifle, I will lead your men in an attack on the rebels which should give you cover to take the Queen and run for it.”

“An attack, General?”

“Yes, Sergeant. I’ve always found it more useful for the enemy to be concentrating on not getting killed instead of concentrating on killing me.”

“There is that, Sir. You sure about this? Me and the lads have already faced certain death once this week. Wouldn’t like to make a habit of it.”

“When we signed up for the Guard, no one promised us an easy life or an easy death, Sergeant. Do you think you can carry her?”

“I got her this far, Sir. I can get her farther.”

“Good man. I should probably tell you one thing though. The Queen is with child.”

He looks at me wide-eyed, down at Alexia and then back at me, speechless with shock.

“My exact reaction, Sergeant.”

He finally finds his voice. “And er’ I been carryin’ her over my shoulder like an old sack of potatoes!”

“That’s as good as any other, Sergeant.”

“But what if I done hurt the baby by being so careless?”

“She has to live to give birth, Sergeant. First things first.” I hold my hand out to him. He shrugs and hands me his rifle. “I do hate to leave a soldier defenseless.”

“If I’m legging it, the less weight the better. Besides, if they get past you, doesn’t really matter now, does it, General?”

“I suppose not. I wish we had more men like you in the Guard, Sergeant.”

“You do, Sir. There’s just not a lot of call for you to mix with the rest of us. Once the riff raff and opportunists left for a better deal, the lads that were left weren’t a bad lot. Just needed a bit of organizing, that’s all.” He reaches down and, after a moment’s hesitation, very carefully stands Alexia up and gently places her across his shoulder as he steps forward and up behind the rocks. There are a few cautious adjustments and he nods his head. He is ready to move out. “Jillian’s mercy be with us all,” he says.

“And Zaphod’s strength,” I add. “Give us five decicycles to draw their fire and then you run like the wind.”

“Aye, Sir. The first bottle of Klatch is on me.”

“And the second is on me, Sergeant. We serve the Queen.”

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

The General signaled the men to move out. He left six in our position to keep firing so that the rebels wouldn’t suspect that the rest of them were going to try to flank them. It’s a simple move but effective, particularly when the fighting first starts and you haven’t gotten everyone in position yet. That’s why I always have at least one man on each flank. It reduces the firepower of the squad but there are rarely any surprises. More men live to see the next day.

When the lads start firing, the rest of the Squad rushes to join the fight, wishing me luck before they leave. I do the same to them. We tain’t likely to see each other again. It’s the best move we got but it won’t be enough. We don’t have enough men or ammunition. They can give those rebel bastards a bloody nose but after that, if they’re smart, they’ll keep enough men to tie the Guard up and send the rest after me. I’ll have a jump on ‘em but I’m running for two … well, more like one and two thirds. They’ll catch me before very long.

With child! She did all that for us and she was with child! I don’t know what to think about that. She has more balls than most men I know, that’s for certain.

I guess it’s been long enough, tain’t been no firing this way for a bit. I stick my head up and look around. Nothing I can see. Better be off then.

I start out slowly, moving and checking as I go. I need to put some distance between me and the fight before making for the camp at top speed. If I can find more Guardsmen and if they got horses, there’s some hope. If I don’t … well, no one can say we didn’t give it our best.

Don’t see nor hear nothing unusual so I better make Klatch while the fire’s hot. There’s a winding path in the woods, probably a game trail of some kind where deer and such follow the same route every day but it heads in the same general direction as I want and it’s easier than breaking my own trail. Quieter too.

The first half a league is mostly flat and easy but then the ground gets hillier, moving up then down irregularly. The terrain provides better protection from easy discovery but it slows me down. The footing is also worse. Climbing a small hillock, I slip and fall to my knees, a sharp pain traveling up my thigh but I don’t drop the Queen. When I try to stand up, the pain in the thigh only grows worse.

So much for speed.

I struggle up and limp off, jostling the Queen way too much for my liking. I can still hear the gunfire but it’s less than before. That could be either good or bad so there’s no reason to worry about it. I need to keep moving.

Been on the run for at least fifteen decicycles, which is longer than I thought I’d last. The game trail turns to my left and deeper into the woods but it looks lighter off to my right. Guess it’s time to go brush bustin’. The thigh still hurts but it’s feeling a little better. Don’t matter right now because I’m wadding through all kinds of thorny brush, full of little, thin branches that rip and tear at my uniform. The Queen’s also.

She’s still alive, of that I’m sure. I can feel her breathing, though it’s very slow and shallow. I think she’s bleeding less, though the thorny branches have created some new wounds on her hands and arms. I just pray to Jillian that she’s got the strength to hold on.

I hear voices back to my rear left, so I hunker down, hoping they won’t see me. After a few milicycles, I also hear horses coming from my right. The horsemen are likely Guard but Zaphod preserve me if I’m wrong. As I rise to make a run for it, someone behind me raises the alarm. I force my way through the last few decileages, bursting clear of the woods into an open field. The horsemen are Guard but they are a quarter league away and trotting in the wrong direction!

“HEY! MUTTON LOVERS! BACK THIS WAY!” I shout.

Several of the riders turn in the saddle to look back at me. I run towards them despite the pain in my leg. No reason to save anything now. The voices from the woods sound louder but I don’t bother to look behind me, they don’t matter. I hear gunfire. Don’t matter. The horsemen have all wheeled their mounts around and are galloping my way, many firing as they ride. I catch one in my left shoulder, causing me to spin and stumble a few decileagues, the pain taking my breath away, but I get back on stride and keep running.

It don’t matter. We serve the Queen.

CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN

I’m back in our New York apartment. Everything is exactly as it was right before Mom and Terry were killed. Except I’m still Alexia and dressed in my Guard uniform, or at least what’s left of it. It’s cut to ribbons in spots and very bloody but I can’t find any injuries on my arms or legs. Anywhere on my body in fact.

I slowly stroll around the living room, lightly touching things as I move about the room. I pick up the family photo where Terry is dressed as Terri. We’re all smiling. It was some kind of promotion at Sears and mom insisted. Terry agreed only if he could come as Terri. I didn’t give a damn one way or another but that was back when I was still hiding so any kind of a photo made me a little nervous. I finally decided that if the cops traced me all the way back to Mom and Terry, I was probably gonna get caught anyway so I agreed to pose.

Terri looks more than passable. He should have done Mom’s makeup. You can see the toll the booze took on her. Still had a great smile though.

The traffic noise is clear and loud. I move to a window and look out. It’s just like I remember it. Same dingy buildings, same declining neighborhood, same low level gang bangers lounging on the stoops.

It’s like I never left. So, what am I doing back here? Is this heaven? Hell?

I hear a key rattling in the front door and step back, looking for something to use as a weapon if need be. The door swings open and an attractive, young blonde woman steps into the apartment.

“He’s here, Mom!” she squeals.

Another young, attractive woman hurries in, stopping to stare at me but this one has auburn hair. She’s slightly shorter than me but we have the same angular face. The other woman is a little more babyfaced; softer, fuller, big eyes and small nose. They stand side by side, holding hands and giving me the once over.

“Oh my!” Red exclaims. “So beautiful! I’d never thought he would turn out so well!”

Blondie steps closer to me, eyes me up and down, then smirks.

“Leave it to you, Alex, to be a better looking woman than me. You are sooo competitive!”

“Do I know you … bitch?” I ask, emphasizing the last word.

Red steps between us. “Girls! I’ll have none of that! We’re family. Behave like it.”

“Family? What the hell are you talking about …” She smiles. I recognize that smile. I grab the picture frame off the table and give it a good look, then compare the smiles.

“Mom?” I hesitantly ask. She steps forward, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me in for a hug.

“Yes, Alex. It’s me. And this is your sister, Terri.”

Blondie waves at me. “Hey, sis. Nice outfit.”

“Screw you, Terri. What the hell is this place? Why do you two looks so …” I want to say young but Terri actually looks just a bit older, like she was in her late twenties. Mom, on the other hand looks about my age. She steps up and lightly touches my face, then my stomach.

“A grandchild. I never thought I’d see one.”

“Not from me, certainly” Terri giggles.

“Mom, what is going on? Where am I? Why am I here? Am I … dead? Is the baby …” I can’t ask it. She gently strokes my hair.

“Honey. Baby. Alex. Where do I begin? This isn’t heaven or hell, it’s a way station. You’re not dead. Yet. Neither is your baby. It’s still up in the air. Personally, I think you’ll pull through. You’ve always been the strongest willed of the family.”

“And the meanest,” Terri adds.

“Hush!” Mom hisses.

“What? That’s a good thing!” Terri protests.

“So why are you guys here? I know you both died.”

“That’s true and I can’t begin to tell you how much Terri and I appreciate all that you did to bring our killers to justice.”

“Real bulldog stuff, Sis, but you were never one to let things go.”

“I remember this one time when you were in third grade,” Mom says. “You were in the boy’s bathroom and had just finished up when this older boy began to urinate on a younger boy, making him cry. You ran out to the water fountain, filled your mouth, ran back in and sprayed the older boy in the face. The principal was so angry. I told him that I was proud of you for defending the younger boy.”

“Alex always did think outside of the box, Mom. In sixth grade, at recess, three jerks took my stocking cap and started to play keep away. Alex stepped in and told them to give it back. He said that if they didn’t, he was going to flatten whoever had the hat regardless of whether he threw to another person or not. If anyone picked up the hat, they were next. The biggest jerk had the hat and he just laughed. Alex charged him at top speed, the jerk threw my hat into the air and Alex hit him in the chest with both hands as he ran right through him. The jerk landed in a snow bank and the hat landed in the middle of the playground and no one even moved a muscle. Alex came over, picked up the hat, gave it to me and we walked away. No one ever took my hat again.”

“This sounds like a wake, guys. Why are you here?”

“Why, to keep you company, Alex,” Mom says. “Or should I say Alexia? Such a lovely name! You really are beautiful. So much like me but … more so. I can’t explain it.”

“Why do you look so young? And why is Terry … Terri?”

“I’m Terri because that is what I want to be, Alexia. Mom is young because that is when she feels she was most beautiful.”

“So why am I Alexia instead of Alex?”

Mom smiles at me. “I think you know the answer to that one, Honey. It’s the same reason that you’re pregnant. It’s what you want.”

“Wait a minute! I was as shocked as anyone when I found out.”

“Part of you was but part of you knew. Oh, Alexia! I wish I had been a better mother to you and Terri, a better example of what a mother should be. I know you’ll be a wonderful mother despite my failings.”

“If I don’t die.”

“You won’t. Can’t you feel it? You’re being pulled back even as we speak. The only reason you’re still here is because you want to stay and visit and you’re strong enough to fight it but the pull back will soon become too strong for even you to resist. Just remember, we both love you and will watch over you, though you may not need much.”

“Mom … I’ve done some terrible things, killed so many … I never wanted to do anything like that but, if I hadn’t, things could have been so much worse.”

“I’m sorry you got stuck with this, Sis,” Terri says with a sigh. “I could never have done what you’ve done. I’d have screwed it up big time.”

“I knew that you were the one for the job, Alexia,” Mom says. “From the very first meeting with Mirantha, it was obvious. I told her to wait for you at the graveyard. I didn’t have your cell number or where you were living, you were always so secretive.”

“So that’s what that whole ‘visit me at my grave’ stuff was about!”

“Sorry, but it worked. We don’t have much time left, milicycles I think is what you say over there. Be strong, my baby. Do what you know in your heart is right and you’ll be fine. Also, give me lots of grandchildren.”

“I’ll do my best, Mom.”

“I know you will, Alexia.” She leans over, kisses me on the forehead and walks to the front door. She pauses, looking back at me, smiling broadly. “You’re a good daughter.”

Terri follows her and also stops at the doorway.

“Remember, Bro. You’re at your best when you do the unexpected. And wear something sexy now and then for me.”

“For you and Johnathyn.”

“That Hubby of yours, he’s a hunk! Rrrroooowwww!”

We both laugh. Mom guides Terri out the door, winks at me, smiles one last time with tears brightening her eyes and then she leaves, the door quietly closing behind her.

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

Oh MAN! The pain!

I hurt all over! It even hurts to think about moving! Just opening my eyes causes my breath to catch and then my lungs and ribs hurt! I want to say something but all I get out is a low, quiet groan.

Instantly, someone is hovering in my face. It’s Silva Cunha, one of our better Healers.

“My Queen!” she gasps. “You live! Bless Zaphod and Jillian, you live!”

“Don’t know how much they had to do with it,” I wheeze. “But I’ll take whatever I can get.”

I’m on my back in bed, covered by a light blanket. Slowly turning my head to the left, then the right, I see that I’m in my tent, alone except for Silva. Trying to sit up, Silva quickly places her hand on my chest, stopping me.

“My Queen, you should not move. You have been grievously injured!”

I carefully fall back but reach up and grab her wrist. “I have to know. How is my baby?”

She smiles, gently prying her hand free of my grip. “All is well. Dierdra insisted on seeing you herself before retiring.”

“Where is she?”

“She is recovering in her tent.”

“Recovering? Is she hurt?”

“No, simply exhausted. She overextended herself in saving your life.”

“She was the one who saved me?”

“Only in part. She kept you from falling to your death. It was the Guard who found you and brought you back here.”

“Was there a fight?”

Silva steps back, looking away. “It is best that you not be upset so soon after your injuries.”

“Why would I be upset? What happened, Silva?”

“My Queen, it is not my place …”

“Cunha! Tell me what happened!”

“I am not privy to all the details.”

“Tell me what you know!”

“Dierdra left strict instructions that I was not to …”

“CUNHA!” Owwww. That hurt.

“Yes, my Queen,” she reluctantly complies. “You landed in the forest after the cowardly attack on your person. You had been falling from the sky but Dierdra conjured a mighty wind to slow your fall. You were found by a squad of Guardsmen who fought their way back towards our encampment while General Packer led a large group of men in the other direction towards them. One man came out of the woods carrying you on his shoulder and he met up with our other men. Unfortunately, a large number of rebels came upon the scene and there was a terrible fight. The Guard prevailed and you were brought back here where Dierdra and I cared for you until you awoke just now.”

“That’s it? Nothing more?”

“None that I know of, my Queen.”

“How many casualties?”

“No one has provided me with exact numbers.”

“Ballpark numbers then.”

“I do not understand, my Queen.”

Aarrrgh! “Approximately how many were hurt or killed, Silva?”

“That is hard to say for certain. Not all of the men have returned to their squads and the regiment commanders have yet to report actual numbers …”

“CUNHA!!” That hurt but not as badly as before. “Tell me what you know as of now! I’m tired of dragging information out of you!”

“My Queen, Dierdra said that …”

“Dierdra’s not here and I am!

She sighs deeply. “Over sixty.”

“Wounded?”

“No, my Queen. Dead. Many more than that wounded.”

My God! Sixty plus. All my fault. I didn’t see the ambush and over sixty men died! What am I doing out here? What am I accomplishing? Wait a decicycle …

“Silva, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you with the wounded?”

“You were our first concern, my Queen.”

“Well, I’m fine. Go help out with the men. They need you more than I do. If you could, have General Packer come in to see me. We need to make some decisions about my future.”

She doesn’t move, paralyzed by uncertainty. You can read it on her face. “Silva, I told you to go. I’ll be fine.”

She still doesn’t move.

“Silva, what’s the problem?”

“General Packer cannot come to see you.”

“Why not?” She won’t look at me. “Silva, why not?”

“As I said, he led the charge to save you. It was very brave of him.”

Oh no! No no no! “Is Packer dead?”

“No, my Queen. Not dead … not yet … at least no one has told me that he has died but it may be just a matter of time.”

“What are you saying?!”

“He was injured. Badly injured. They were surprised that he lived long enough to be brought back to the camp.”

I push myself up off the bed, stifling the impulse to scream in pain.

“Help me up” I gasp through gritted teeth.

“No! You mustn’t! You will re-open your wounds!”

“So what? It won’t kill me. I’ve got a job to do.”

“That is not a certainty, Alexia. You are far from well. As for your job, you are weak. I can feel it. What can you do?”

I fight my way upright, tossing the blanket aside and carefully swing my legs over the side of the bed. I’m not wearing anything and can see numerous bandages on my arms, legs, torso and feel some on my head.

“I may be weak but I’m still the baddest witch in this camp. No one can do what I can. Find me some clothes to wear.”

“I refuse. You are not fit to be up and about. You are endangering your health and the health of your child.”

“Won’t be the first time, maybe not the last. I have the choice but Packer doesn’t.”

“He risked his life to save yours. You dishonor his sacrifice by doing this.”

“That’s crap. He helped save me and I’m helping to save him. Find me some clothes, damn it!”

“He may already be dead!”

“Then let’s go find out. Get me some clothes!”

“Alexia, it is not wise to …”

Extending my right hand, I turn it over and open it, palm up. A small ball of flame appears and steadily grows as I tremble with the effort.

“Clothes. Now.”

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

Silva finally relented and gathered some of my clothes. I sent her out to find a cane for me because I didn’t want her to see my struggles to get dressed. When every little movement causes pain, you get very economical with your motions. It’s slow and I have to pause every few decicycles to catch my breath but I eventually get dressed in my most basic clothes; ankle length light blue button front cotton dress belted at the waist, simple white bra and panties, slip on shoes. I’ve just managed to stand up straight by leaning on a chair that almost fell over when Silva returns with a cane. I take it in my right hand and grab her arm with my left.

“Let’s go,” I gasp.

“My Queen …”

“No arguments, Silva.”

She sets out for the Healer’s tent with me hobbling along besides her.

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

“She lives, Tasher! She escaped my trap, she escaped my men and she lives to tell the tale!”

“Are you certain, First Minister?”

“I am certain” replies a voice from outside my tent. The flap is pushed aside and Queen Tammy steps in, followed by two of her guard. She is the last person I wish to see at this time.

“What are you doing here? Return to your tent immediately!”

“You did not fail completely, Dupree. You failed to either kill or capture Alexia but you did weaken her significantly. The other witches in her camp are also stressed and low on power. All thanks to your toys.”

“What does it matter?” Tasher spits. “She will withdraw from the field, regain her powers and then come looking for us. Her vengeance will be swift and horrible. We are all doomed men.”

Tasher is right. A wounded Alexia is ultimately more dangerous to me than any other person, witch or not. However, he is wrong about her vengeance being swift and horrible.

“No, General. She will take her time, savoring and enjoying each excruciating milicycle.”

“All the more reason that I should challenge her to a fight,” declares the witch.

“It would be madness for her to accept, you fool!” Tasher shouts. “She need only wait until she has sufficiently recovered her strength and then fall upon us along with that dragon of hers. Or perhaps this time it will be two or maybe three dragons! We have lost! It is time to run, while we can!”

“Utter twaddle,” Tammy calmly declares. “You know nothing of witches, Tasher. She will have no choice but to accept the challenge. It is our way and has been so since time began. And I will defeat her. Yes, she is alive but greatly weakened. I feel it, as would you if you were a witch.”

“Thank Zaphod for small favors,” he growls.

She raises her hand to strike at him. “You witless cur! You have insulted me for the last time! Feel my wrath!”

Before she can do anything, I step between them.

“General Tasher! Queen Tammy! Both of you cease this quarreling immediately! We all need each other more than ever now.”

Tasher moves away from us about thee decileagues, stops and glowers at Tammy. She turns to confront me.

“What is your plan, Dupree? Do you also wish to run and hide, afraid of your own shadow just as a frightened bunny?”

“See here! There is no call for insults. Alexia is an extremely dangerous foe now.”

“Then where is the harm in me challenging her? Do you have a better choice available? Does the brilliant General Tasher?” she taunts.

“Have a care who you disparage, witch!” he threatens.

She ignores him, continuing to press me. “What is your risk? The Guard has fewer men, even after all she has killed of yours and those that have fled in fear. You still have your secret weapons, though little good they did you.”

“They are no longer secret,” Tasher notes.

“The fact of which supports my challenge,” Tammy continues. “Everything supports me. I have fought the Guard since I was a young woman. I know when to run and when to attack. You attack while your enemy is weak. Right now, Alexia is week.”

“Except the reality of our position, Queen Tammy,” he says, sarcasm dripping from each word. “No sane person would accept the challenge.”

“Should that not be her choice, First Minister Dupree?” she asks, ignoring Tasher completely. “If she rejects it, you are no worse off. If she accepts it, you win. We both win.”

“Idiocy!” Tasher cries.

I say nothing, considering what Tammy has proposed. Tasher is correct. Alexia should never accept but she is young and foolhardy, still impulsive and reckless. I should not assume that she would always act as rationally as I would. We trapped her once before. Perhaps we can do it again but in a different way.

“General, how quickly can you assemble all my men?”

Tasher is upset. “Dupree! You cannot be considering this!”

“Queen Tammy is correct. We have no other plan than running away, which only delays the inevitable.”

“It gives us time to think of something much more likely to succeed, First Minister.”

“Which would be what? Our Queen is willing to risk all. I believe that we should join her. You are certain that you can win … my Queen?”

She stands still and erect, full of herself. “Of that there is no doubt. She is wasting what little magical power she has on trying to help her men. I let yours die to preserve my power. I may not be Opulessa but Alexia is not at full strength. She is barely a Sixty One!”

“So, a fair fight?”

“Against a much more experienced opponent. Remember, I am still here after all Opulessa’s efforts to kill me. I have killed many who sought my death. That must count for something.”

She might be correct. It is worth pursuing. “General Tasher, let us talk about where and when such a challenge can take place.”

“Dupree, I implore you …”

“Just talk, General.” I swing my arm towards the flap of my tent. After a moment’s hesitation, he storms out. I prepare to follow him but Tammy grabs my arm.

“It must be soon, Dupree. She must not be given the chance to recover.”

I bow towards her. “Understood, my Queen.” I then leave the tent and find Tasher waiting for me, full of anger. I raise my hand to halt any immediate protests. “Yes, it is unlikely that Alexia, or more probably, General Packer, would ever accept such a challenge; however, there is no harm in making the offer. Should it be accepted, it would let us get another chance to strike at Alexia before she is strong enough to overwhelm us.”

“So, we are in agreement that wagering everything on that old hag’s victory is beyond foolish?”

“Absolutely in agreement. If she should win, so much the better but we need to be prepared for all possibilities.”

“Including the strong possibility that they will laugh in our faces for even suggesting it.”

“Nothing attempted, nothing achieved, General. How quickly can you be ready?”
CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT

I walk as quickly as I can but it still takes forever to get to the Healer’s Tent. When we step in, all activity comes to a halt.

“Carry on!” I order and everyone starts right back up. The lead Healer hurries towards me and curtsies.

“My Queen! You should not be here! Your injuries …”

“Are of no consequence. I do appreciate all you and your staff have done for me and the Guard. Excellent work. I am here to see General Packer. Take me to him.”

She hesitates, quickly glancing back over her right shoulder before returning her attention to me with sad eyes.

“My Queen,” she begins with a big sigh, “General Packer died almost twenty decicycles ago. We did all that we could but it was not enough.”

“No one dies until I say they die. Take me to him now.”

“But, my Queen, he has passed over.”

“Not yet, he hasn’t. Where is he?”

She leads us to a group of bodies laid out on a long table. So many bodies. My mind can’t help trying to count them before I drag my attention to a lone body off to the side. It’s Packer, laying on his back, hands across his chest. A quick look tells me that he has at least three chest wounds and a head wound.

“Silva, get me a chair and then you lend a hand to whoever needs it most. I’ll be just a decicycle.”

She leaves my side, grabs a chair, sets it next to the body and then waits, along with the lead Healer.

“You two need to find other patients to help. I’ll take care of the General.”

Silva still won’t leave me. “Alexia, there is nothing you can do for him. He has passed.”

“So did I. It didn’t take.”

I slowly drop down into the chair and lay my hands on the body. It’s still warm but there is no reaction. I close my eyes and begin my search for signs of life.

No heartbeat, no brain activity, lungs deflated and flaccid with several holes and lots of damage. Broken ribs and a shattered left shoulder. His liver and digestive system have already begun to breakdown. This won’t be easy. Best start slowly.

I let the magic trickle in, concentrating on the damaged lungs and getting his heart beating. I can’t have a brain damaged general. The lungs aren’t repaired so they’re leaking air like a broken bellows but some of the blood is getting oxygenated and the heart is moving it around. The body’s systems are sputtering back to a minimum operating level like an old Ford Model T auto but I have to use magic to keep everything running. Nothing will keep working if I remove the magic.

The toxins in his blood are being filtered out by his kidneys but they need constant monitoring. Same for the liver. Things are beginning to look up but that leaves the brain for last. I don’t know how much I’ve got left to use but Packer will get all I have to give.

I begin to push the magic into his brain, first in the brain stem and then up into the main body of the brain, including both hemispheres, first on the surface but then deeper. I can see synapses firing but they appear to be random but I’ve never studied a working brain before so that may be normal. I keep pushing, looking for signs of life that I’m not controlling with magic, but haven’t seen any so far. I’m just about to reach my limit when Packers eyes suddenly fly open and he coughs several times.

“Where am I?” he croaks, his voice as dry and cracked as his lips.

Silva nearly collapses in shock.

“Alexia! What have you done?!” she exclaims, drawing the attention of every nearby Healer. I ignore them all.

“You’re in the Healer’s tent,” I whisper into his ear. “I’ve brought you back from the brink of death, General.”

“Why?” he gasps.

“I told you, no one dies on my watch, not if I can help it.”

By now, any Healer not immediately working with a patient has gathered around me. Word had quickly spread that General Packer had died and just as quickly that he has come back from the dead.

That kind of rumor tends to get your attention.

“Water,” he requests. One of the Healers tips his head forward and carefully pours a small amount of water in his mouth. I need to operate his throat and tongue so that he can swallow. What seems so easy for a person to do on their own is devilishly hard to do for someone else. Most of the water runs out of his mouth but some of it makes it to his throat.

“Thank you,” he says a bit louder. “Alexia, why have you done this to me?”

“I told you already. No one dies if I can prevent it.”

“But I had died. It was a good death, a soldier’s death. I had already passed over. My family was waiting for me. My recently deceased mother was there as were many old comrades. Lucretia, the love of my life, was just about to greet me when I was brought back here.”

“I can fix you, Dyson. It’ll take time but I can do it. I just need to get some more witches together, keep you on life support and start repairs. I can save your life!”

“To what end? Have I not done my duty to Queen and country? Do I not deserve my final reward? What more can I do?”

“I need you, Dyson. Your Queen still needs your advice, your judgment, your support. I can’t do this without you, General. Besides, you said you wanted to open a print shop when you retired. We were going to build you a printing press. Remember? We can still do it. I can make it all possible.”

“That was just a passing fancy, Alexia. An old soldier looking for something to do while awaiting death.” His eyes look around him while his head remains still. They open wider when he recognizes someone. “Sergeant Timbler, explain it to her. Please!”

I look up and recognize Timbler. He was one of the men that Lilly and I saved days ago. He’s got an arm in a sling and leaning on a crutch. What is he doing here? He appears to be shocked at what he sees.

“I heard it but could not believe it! Is it really you, General, Sir?”

“Yes. Save me Sergeant. Explain it to the Queen so that she understands. I beg you!”

“What does he mean, Sergeant?” I ask.

Timbler looks down at me, nervously licks his lips, then hops a little to get squared up to me.

“It’s like this, Alexia. The General here is a military man, spent practically all his life in uniform. Worked his way up from the ranks. Seen a lot of fighting, killed a lot of people, done his duty. He’s also sent a lot of good men to their deaths because that was his duty too. When you’re an officer, that’s what officers do, among other things. When you’re the top officer, that’s about all you do. Eventually, if you’re a good officer, you get so you can’t do that no more, not without trouble to your head. Sooner or later, you have to stop or go mad. You’re still a military man, you just can’t do it no more. That can make you mad too. The lucky military man dies at war, doing his duty. For the General here, the way he went, you could not ask for none better. Saving the Queen’s life? That’s a top drawer death there for a real military man.”

“What if the job isn’t done yet? What if he is still needed? What if there are people left behind who still need his help and advice?”

“Begging your Majesty’s pardon and all, but, if that’s the real reason for doing all this, tain’t that a bit selfish on your part? I only say that because when you saved me and the lads, I didn’t see a selfish hair on your head, if you know what I mean.”

“So what are you telling me, Sergeant?”

“I tain’t telling you anything, Ma’am. I’m just saying what the General’s been telling you. Tain’t that right, General, Sir?”

“Yes,” Packer says. “Well done, Timbler.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Timbler hops back into the crowd.

I’ve screwed up again. Looking at all these bodies, I just want it to end. I thought if I could save Packer, he could help me do that and I wouldn’t feel so guilty about his death and all the others but now I see that those are my problems, not his.

“I’m sorry, Dyson. Please forgive me. I shouldn’t have done this to you or anyone else. It’s simply too much. You deserve to get all you are entitled to. It was a pleasure to work with you, General Dyson Packer.”

“I also enjoyed our time together. I believe you will eventually be the greatest Queen this world has ever seen, Alexia Thompson Tyber, and I am proud to have served you. One last thing for Sergeant Timbler. There are two bottles of very old Klatch in my tent. They are to be given to the Sergeant for him to share with his squad. We made a pledge. Under the circumstances, I’ll stand for both bottles.”

“Very generous of you, Sir,” says Timbler. “Me and the lads will be proud to drink to your memory and future happiness.”

“Thank you, Sergeant. I’m ready, my Queen.”

“Goodbye, Dyson.”

I pull all the magic back as Packer returns to where I had torn him from. Was it Heaven? Was it the same place I may have been? I feel all alone and helpless for a few milicycles as everyone around me returns to work. Another good man lost to this war. I need to put an end to this now. No matter what the cost to me, it must end now.

“Are you well, Alexia?” asks Timbler. He had lingered behind as the others left.

“Yes, Sergeant, I’m reasonably well. A little beat up physically and emotionally but getting better.”

“And the young one?”

“Also well, or so I’ve been told. How did you know?”

“We all know, what with the rescue and all. Hard to not spread that news. We’re all happy for you, Ma’am.”

“Is that how you were hurt, saving our lives?”

“Well, me and the lads were out on patrol and got swept up in all the fighting. We made it back to camp without anyone hurt too bad. They say I’m laid up for a few weeks.”

“I could take care of that if you wish.”

“No thank you Ma’am. I’ll just take the time to heal if it’s all the same to you. They may even give me time to go home and see the family.”

“I’ll make sure of it. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that all this happened. I should have been smarter, I should have seen the ambush. All these men killed or injured because of my mistakes.”

“No one tells me anything, Ma’am, but the skettershot is that you was trying to help some poor troopers caught in the same kind of trouble you found me and the lads in. That they weren’t what they seemed is no reflection on you. If you’d been more careful back earlier, I wouldn’t be alive today to get hurt trying to save you. It’s a funny ol’ world.”

“That it is, Sergeant. Is there anything I can do for you to show my appreciation?”

“You wouldn’t know how I could lay me hands on them bottles of Klatch now, would you?”

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

I felt the surge of magic while resting in my tent. Alexia was attempting something that required a large amount of magic, even more than that dragon of hers. She was supposed to be conserving her energy. Instead, she is expending it.

That girl will be the death of me yet!

I have just managed to sit up on the edge of the bed when Silva bursts into my tent, red faced and out of breath.

“What has she done now?” I ask, afraid to hear her answer.

“I would not have believed it if I had not seen it with my own eyes! She raised General Packer from the dead!”

“He was truly dead?”

“As dead as five day old fish.”

“You must be mistaken, Silva.”

“Dierdra, I have been a Healer for over thirty years, I know dead when I see it. Packer was dead and then he spoke of what he saw on the other side, that his departed friends and family greeted him.”

“No witch has ever brought a dead man back to life, not one who was truly dead.”

“She appeared to be living for the both of them. I could see the strain in her face.”

“The fool! She already lives for two! Does she care nothing for her child! Where is General Packer now?”

“Returned to the land of the dead. He asked that Alexia allow him to die and she agreed.”

“She does the impossible one decicycle and then reverses it the next? Why did she do it in the first?”

“She did not say. After Packer died again, she turned to treating the other badly injured men. No others died today.”

How can I not be pleased at that news? Yet, it may come with a terrible price. “How is Alexia?”

“Greatly fatigued. We have both seen it before but it is worse this time. With her injuries …”

“I well know it. Why did you not stop her?”

Silva gave me a look of exasperation.

I should not have even bothered asking the question. Alexia is very strong willed. “I apologize, Silva. You tried your best, of that I am certain.”

“I did. She has returned to her tent and was asleep but who knows how long that will last.”

“Agreed. We should prepare her a meal that she may be able to eat in the morning. I will speak with her after she awakes to try to dissuade her from this dangerous path.”

“I fear that is impossible, Dierdra.”

She may be correct about that.

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

There was a ringing of the bell outside my tent flap. I’ve been asleep for over eight cycles but it feels like only four. I hadn’t bothered to get undressed, just flopped into bed after I got back from the Healer’s tent. I still hurt all over but the pain is down to a dull throb. Some of the bandages came loose during the night and the cuts that I can see have healed quite a bit, certainly more than I expected. I slowly slide out of the bed, slip my shoes on and shuffle to the entrance of my tent.

I must look like death warmed over.

“Who is it?” I mumble.

“The General Staff, my Queen. We beg an audience with you.”

I assumed I’d have to meet Dyson’s replacement sooner or later. Guess the military can’t really afford a respectful period of mourning.

“Sure, come on in.”

I turn and shuffle back to the small table where Dyson and I used to eat together and shoot the breeze. Three officers enter and wait as I sit down with a muted groan. I look up at them. I’ve seen them all before but never really talked with them, I always dealt with General Packer. They look nervous.

I force a smile. “Have a seat, Gentlemen. No reason to stand on ceremony.”

There’s a momentary hesitation and then the shortest one steps forward, quickly followed by the other two. The short one takes the chair opposite me and the other two sit on either side.

“Sorry about my appearance. I was up late and haven’t had time to get presentable yet.”

They look back and forth between themselves before Shorty speaks up. “No apology needed, my Queen. You appear to us as you always do, perfectly attired.”

I glance down at my dress, expecting to see a sea of wrinkles but it looks as if it is fresh from the laundry, clean and neatly pressed. Must be my subconscious taking care of me.

“You’re too kind General … I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

He pops up and bows. “I am General Joshua Dekes, second in command of the Queen’s Guard. This is General Laughlin Slyter.” The man to my right hops up and bows. “And this is General Pytor Fortney.” The man on my left does the same. “We are General Packer’s staff and next in the chain of command for the Queen’s Guard. Due to General Packer’s death, it is necessary to appoint a new Commander of the Guard. As Queen, the choice is yours.”

“Sit down, Gentlemen. Technically, I haven’t returned to the throne yet, General Dekes, so I’m not really the Queen.”

“General Packer considered you to be the Queen as do we, Ma’am.”

“As do all the men of the Guard,” adds General Slyter.

“That is true,” says Dekes. “We will honor whatever choice you make.”

“General Packer had told me that there were a number of competent officers on his staff, all capable of replacing him. He did not give me names but I will assume that he was referring to you three. There is no reason to shake up the command structure while in the middle of a war. Not good for morale. You are the new Commander of my Guard, General Dekes, and I leave it to your good judgment to arrange your own staff.”

All three of them visibly relax, with Slyter and Fortney bowing their heads ever so slightly towards a smiling General Dekes. Better give him the bad news right now.

“General Dekes, I intend to let you run the Guard but I will set the objectives. I want this war to end as soon as possible. I am tired of losing good men like General Packer. This war must end and I will do whatever is necessary to end it.”

Dekes is shocked. “You do not intend to surrender, do you, my Queen?”

“No! I want to end it by winning it!”

He relaxes again. “I am pleased to hear that, my Queen. I agree that we need to be victorious and sooner is better than later but Dupree’s army remains a formidable foe despite their recent losses. Rash actions on our part could lead to more deaths on our side.”

The other two nod their heads sagely. You can tell why Packer trusted this group, they all believe as he did.

“General Dekes, I intend to do all that I can to win this war. If I have to go on the offensive on my own, that’s what I’m going to do. The Guard can join me or they can watch me.”

“My Queen, have we not already seen the results of that strategy? How many died yesterday?”

He’s a very brave man to say that to me. Packer was right.

“I had General Packer’s authority for what I did. In fact, he asked me to take to the air. I am willing to take responsibility for my actions. Are you willing to take responsibility for your inactions?”

He looks angry. He should be. I just questioned his manhood. “Is this a test of some kind, my Queen? If I do not have your confidence, you should find an officer you do trust. I will tell you right now that I will not recklessly use my men as a balm for your guilt!”

General Fortney tries to intervene. “I am certain that we can reach some kind of compromise that we all can support.”

I’m not letting Dekes off the hook that easily. “Yes, General Dekes, I feel responsible for General Packer’s death as well as all the Guardsmen who have died in this war. I also accept responsibility for all the men I have killed since I came to this world. I may be the greatest mass murderer this world has ever seen. If not, I probably will be before this is war is done. I don’t want it this way. I tried to avoid it. This world left me no choice. I’m going to be a tyrant Queen but, with any luck, I’ll be the last tyrant Queen. Get used to it. These deaths will haunt me until the day I die, which is going to be a very long time from now. You tell me, General Dekes, which type of war kills the fewest; long and drawn out where a few die at a time or a short intense war where they all die at once?”

“That is unknown, my Queen. The answer may depend on how many more of those rocket devices they have.”

“I’d like to know that too. If they’re almost out, I can handle the rest. If not …”

Suddenly, I hear a horse pull up just outside my tent, the tack rattling to a quick stop followed by the rider hitting the ground. There’s a rapid ringing of the bell.

“General Dekes, Sir!” the voice cries out.

He looks at me and I give permission with a quick nod of my head.

“Come in!” he commands. The trooper rushes in, a piece of paper in his hand.

“Begging your pardon, Sir. This was just delivered by a rebel horseman under a branch of truce!”

“A branch of truce?” I ask.

“When one side wants to speak with the other side, you send out a man holding a large branch up high in the air,” Slyter explained.

“Why not use a white flag?”

“Where are you going to find a white flag?” he asks.

Good point. Dekes continues to read the message then silently hands it to Fortney, a satisfied look on his face. Fortney quickly scans the document and hands it to Slyter.

“They must be desperate,” says Fortney.

“So it would seem,” answers Dekes.

Slyter drops it on the table. “They are mad to suggest such a thing,” he says.

“Would someone care to tell the Queen what is going on?” I sweetly inquire.

“Their Queen Tammy has issued a challenge to you, my Queen. To the death or surrender.” Dekes answers.

“You mean like I did to Opulessa, winner take all? She wins and she’s the Queen, the real Queen?”

“Exactly. We will decline the challenge, of course.”

“Not so fast. Why would they do that, issue the challenge I mean?”

“They realize that they cannot win the war and their only chance for victory is the challenge.”

“Why would she think she can beat me? I’m a Seventy Seven and she’s only a Sixty Two, or at least that’s what I’ve been told.”

“It is because you are not nearly at full strength,” declares Dierdra as she barges into my tent.

“Dierdra, come in and set a spell.”

“You do not understand, Alexia. You have been challenged! If you do not accept, you lose! That you are with child means nothing.”

“Mistress Denson,” begins Dekes. “That Dupree would make such a desperate play does not compel us to accept. No one would condemn the Queen for dismissing it for what it is, the last act of a beaten man.”

“This is witch lore, young man. It is how we have lived for hundreds of years. Opulessa never refused a challenge.”

“She never lost one until I showed up,” I say with quiet pride.

“No, and it took more than you to defeat her, if you recall, Alexia. We all played our parts.”

“That’s true but I’m better now than I was then.”

“Not today you are not and Tammy knows that. Today it is an even match, maybe in her favor. You could easily lose.”

“Then we delay it until the Queen is at full strength. How long will that be?” Dekes asks.

“It could be weeks,” Dierdra answers. “Once a challenge has been made, it must occur as soon as the place is chosen, no more than twelve cycles so as to make certain it happens in the daylight.”

“Then we delay it as long as possible to give the Queen a chance to …”

“No, we do not delay,” I say. “They think they have the advantage for some reason and I think I know what that is. At least one of them. We can turn the tables on them with just a bit of luck.”

“How do you propose to do that, my Queen?”

“Answer me this, General Dekes. Would you put the fate of you and all your men on the outcome of this fight between witches?”

He doesn’t answer right away, sharing looks with his fellow generals. “No, my Queen, I would not.”

Dierdra gasps but I smile.

“Neither would Dupree and he wouldn’t have to think about it. His Queen’s challenge is just a diversion of some kind. If she wins, that’s just the icing on the cake. The real attack comes later, once he’s established his position. I just need to know one thing, General Dekes. How many of those rocket-propelled grenades does he have left?”

“I cannot answer that question, my Queen. We were not aware he had any weapon like that available to him.”

“Then we need to improve our intelligence gathering. Do we have any rebel prisoners?”

“Yes, my Queen, a number of them.”

“How high is the rank of the most senior prisoner?”

“That is hard to say. We have not bothered to study their command structure. It was of no interest to General Packer.”

More of an honorable military man than a spy. I can see it but you need to also understand your opponent.

“Dierdra, how long until I need to answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’ on this challenge?”

“You cannot say ‘no’. Your answer is only a question, ‘where’ and ‘when.’”

“You mean the challenger also picks the time and place?”

“That can be negotiated within certain bounds.”

“Great. Let ’em stew a little while. General Dekes, I’ll need the three highest ranking rebel prisoners outside of my tent in ten decicycles. I’ll need three guards and also to speak with the cook before anyone shows up.”

“The cook?” Dierdra asks. “What are you planning, Alexia?”

“Something my sister suggested. I’m planning to play to my strength, to do the unexpected. Hand me my backpack, General Dekes.”

CHAPTER FIFTY NINE

The three rebel prisoners were all seated outside of Alexia’s tent, each of them shackled by chains on both the wrists and ankles. The guards had brought short barrels for them to sit on. Alexia had ordered the guards to inform them at the time they were picked up that they were to be questioned by the Queen personally. They had been sitting, waiting for at least ten decicycles for Alexia to appear but she was in no hurry.

“Let ’em wait,” she said. “I want you to stay with them, study them and then report to me, Dierdra.”

I have been watching ever since their arrival but not observed much. The oldest of the three, a middle sized man of maybe fifty years, does not interact with the other two, at least not as much as they do together. They are both taller than average and in their mid to late forties. They have done little but whisper together since they arrived with the older man remaining aloof, though he does ask the occasional question which is quickly answered by one of the other two.

None of them wear any obvious insignia on their clothes. They are mostly dressed alike though not exactly. The uniform standards of the rebel army must be a bit slack. After fifteen decicycles, she calls me into her tent.

“What do you think, Dierdra?” she asks.

“The two younger men seem anxious. They spent a great deal of time whispering to each other.”

“What did they say?”

“I did not listen, it would have been improper.”

Alexia seems upset with me. “Maybe I wasn’t clear about the basic concept of interrogation. You want to know what they know and who else knows it. Eavesdropping on their conversations is right in that wheelhouse.” She sighs loudly. “Never mind, it likely wasn’t too illuminating; they probably assumed you were listening. Go outside, have a seat, count to one hundred and then send the youngest man in with a guard. Do your best not to react to anything you see or hear but do try to listen to their conversations.”

I leave the tent, return to my seat and do as she ordered, the youngest man being a blonde haired, blue eyed Northerner. He strikes a pose of determination before entering the tent and the oldest man admonishes him to remain silent. He nods his head, acknowledging that he had heard the order and then steps inside with the guard on his heels.

Two guards stay with the remaining two prisoners, all of us straining to hear what is happening in the tent without any success. There is no conversation of any kind between the two prisoners as the younger man seems intimidated by the older man. After only approximately ten decicycles, there is a very loud gunshot. I jump, startled by the sound but just a single one. It seems to have come from inside the tent. My ears are still ringing from the loudness of the sound of that shot. In just a few moments, the guard backs out of the Queen’s tent, his arms under those of the rebel prisoner. The guard is backing up, pulling the body of the prisoner out the flap of the tent, the heels dragging along the ground. The front of the dark shirt of the prisoner is soaked red with blood and I can see the stain slowly spreading. The guard drags the man to a two wheeled horse cart and unceremoniously dumps the body into the back of the cart, telling the driver to take the body away but return quickly as there may be more work for him.

The remaining prisoners are clearly shocked. The younger man attempts to speak with the older man but he does not respond, again admonishing him to remain silent but he seems less sure of himself. The younger man is beside himself, begging me with his eyes for me to do something. I can only assume that he is reacting to the surprise displayed upon my face.

The guard reaches out and grabs the younger prisoner by the back of the shirt. As the rebel begins to struggle, the guardsman is joined by two others and they bodily drag him into the tent as he remains silent but flails about wildly.

Time again passes slowly. I am watching the last prisoner when a second gunshot is fired, just as surprising and unnerving as the first. This time, the last prisoner jumps up but is roughly shoved down by his guard. Just as before, a guard backs out of the Queen’s tent but this time, the other guard is carrying the prisoner’s feet. The same large dark red slowly expanding stain is seen on the body’s chest. The guards pitch the body in the back of the just returned horse cart which moves quickly away.

Both guards turn to face the last prisoner who quickly rises and attempts to flee but he immediately stumbles due to the chains, falling to the ground. All three guards roughly pick him up and carry him into the tent as he struggles to break their grip on him.

The first guard addresses me. “The Queen wishes you to attend, Mistress Denson.”

“I will be happy to do so,” I answer as I hurry into the tent behind them.

Once inside, I see the prisoner being held in front of Alexia, a guard on either side of him, each with a firm grip on his arm. The third guard is behind him, holding onto the back of his shirt. The prisoner is visibly shaken, red faced and sweating. Alexia is seated before him at her little table, the Glock 19 within easy reach lying on the top of that table. The floor at the feet of the prisoner is blood stained, with both small pools and spots plus drag marks.

“What in Zaphod’s name are you doing?” I shout at her.

“Not now, Dierdra,” she calmly replies. “I have just one last man to deal with and we can discuss it.” She looks up at him and smiles, an evil glint in her eyes. “Prisoner Number Three. I have just one question for you.”

“I have a name, witch!” the rebel screams.

“Who gives a flying fuck?” Alexia replies. “You’re just a rebel dog to me. I’ve given all of you chance after chance to come to your senses and stop this foolishness but you’ve refused at every turn. Thousands of your group have accepted my offers and returned to their homes, beds, wives and families. I’ve decided those that remain have had more than enough chances to do the right thing and haven’t so I’m done with them. They will all be dead in a few cycles. You, on the other hand, have one last opportunity that they do not have. My spies have told me approximately how many rocket-propelled grenades are left in Dupree’s hands. I don’t want any of those weapons to leave this battlefield. They can cause enormous damage in the hands of an untrained person and I do not want to take that chance. I am asking you to confirm what I already know. I want someone who knows to give me the exact number. My spies can only give me an estimate.”

“What about my comrades?” he demands.

“They either didn’t know or wouldn’t say. Prisoner One had no idea and Prisoner Two was so far off that he was clearly guessing just to save his life. We both know how that worked out for him. It’s down to you, Number Three. Tell me what I need to know and you walk out of here a free, living man, maybe to fight me another day. I don’t really care. If you can’t tell me what I need to know, then you’ll just die a few cycles earlier than the rebels on the other side and just a few decicycles after Prisoners One and Two. How many?”

“Alexia! Please do not do this! He is a prisoner and should be treated as such!” I cry out.

“Later, Dierdra,” she says, reaching for the gun in front of her. “Guard, step away from his back. This is a metal jacketed round; the other two were hollow points. This one will likely go straight through him. What’s it going to be, Number Three?”

The man just stands there, shaking and sweating.

“Nothing? You sure about that? Oh well, can’t say I wasn’t fair about it.”

She pulls the hammer back and points the gun at his chest. I am taking a breath to shout at her to stop when the prisoner speaks.

“Thirty,” he says.

Alexia elevates the muzzle of the gun.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“Thirty” he repeats. “Dupree has thirty of them remaining; at least he did as of two days ago. I do not know what has happened since I was captured.”

Alexia returns the gun to the top of the table.

“Fair enough. Guards, return this man to the stockade. Make note that he is to be released after the challenge is done. You made a wise choice, Number Three.”

“May Zaphod never forgive you!” he spits.

“He probably won’t, if that’s any consolation. Take him away, boys. Oh, ask General Dekes to drop by once you’re done with Mr. Hewlette here.”

The prisoner’s eyes widen in shock as he is pushed out of the tent. I step closer to Alexia, who slumps in her chair, sighing heavily.

“Damn! That took a lot out of me. Not as much as healing does but still, there is no doubt I am not at the top of my game.”

“Alexia, did you kill those other men?”

She smiles brightly. “Looked like I did, didn’t it? That thickened beet juice the cook made really looked like blood. Sorry about that. I needed your righteous anger to sound authentic and I wasn’t sure about how good an actress you are so I kept you in the dark.”

“As you have done before.”

“True but always with the best intentions.”

“Always?”

She reaches down next to the table and lifts her backpack off the floor with a muted grunt, laying it on the table in front of her. She unzips the main pouch and removes her Kom-put-er.

“Almost always. Time for a little research and then we’ll be ready for Dupree and his bitch Queen.”

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

“Unbelievable!” Tasher exclaimed.

“I have their written response right in my hand. I am as surprised as you are, General.”

“I do not understand, First Minister. Packer is a very competent man. He would never agree to the challenge. All of the advantages are on his side. Why throw them away?”

“It is possible that Packer is no longer the one making the decisions. I have seen reports from our men that he was killed during their rescue of the Queen.”

“That would explain much. Whoever has been appointed as their new Commander may not be able to control their witch. If it is she who is making the decisions now, we may be able to make this work to our advantage. She was fooled by the ambush though the execution was inadequate.”

“It is also possible that Alexia and her friends take this ‘Witch’s Lore’ nonsense seriously, General. Whatever the reason, we must seize this opportunity. It is our choice as to where and when. When must be very soon or Alexia will have time to regain her strength. That need limits us as to where.”

“It must be a place we know well, one where we have the advantage of terrain.”

“Agreed, but it can’t be too advantageous to us or they can refuse. It must also be nearby …”

“I have it! The canyon where the first trap failed! It is large enough to hold all our men on the three sides. That gives us the high ground but there is not so much cover that it is too great an advantage. We are familiar with the site already. They can have the plain below, which does have some cover but not so much that we cannot defeat them.”

“Yes! I can scatter the remaining RPG’s among the men with one of your command officers with each one to guarantee no mistakes this time. If Alexia should win, I will blow her off the face of the world!”

“But will they accept this, First Minister? It may be too much to ask.”

“If Queen Tammy is correct, there is not much else they can do without risking a forfeit.”

“A forfeit does us no good. We must have the entire Queen’s Guard here to strike a killing blow.”

“Assuming Queen Tammy does not win, General Tasher.”

“Whether she wins or not, First Minister. The Queen’s Guard is not to be trusted. They cannot be expected to accept the outcome of this fight any more than we would. No man would allow his fate to be determined by two women, no matter they be witches or not.”

“It should not come to that, General. I personally will pull the trigger on the RPG that ends Queen Alexia’s short and undistinguished reign. Send a messenger immediately.”

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

“Where?!”

“The box canyon, my Queen.”

“Where I was ambushed, right?”

“Yes, my Queen.”

“Gotta give Dupree credit for a sick sense of humor. At least I know the layout, which is a plus. How long do we have, General Dekes?”

“They propose four cycles, which is too little time to prepare a workable attack plan. They know that.”

“Then we keep it simple, General. Straight and to the point.”

“My Queen, I have concerns about this plan of yours. We have the advantage now and time is on our side. There is no need to take this risk.”

“How many more men die if we do it your way, General?”

“How many die if we follow your plan?”

“I asked you a question, General Dekes. I would like an answer.”

“It would be difficult to give an accurate answer. There are too many things that we do not know.”

“Give me a range. A high number and a low number.”

“My Queen, I could not possibly …”

“Dekes,” I insist.

“One hundred, two hundred.”

“Or more.”

“Yes, or more. Who can say for certain?”

“Plus the injured.”

“Agreed. How many could die with your plan, my Queen?”

“Will die or could die?” I look at Dekes apprehensive expression. “Could die?” Dekes wants to know the odds. “Many if things go very wrong.” But if things go according to plan, “Will die … none.”

Dekes is astonished. “Alexia … may I call you Alexia, my Queen?”

“I’d prefer it, General.”

“Thank you, Alexia. Be reasonable. None?”

“If it works. I want this war to end now. Too many have died already. One shot and we are done. Dupree needs this and I want it. The world that I came from has a long history of wars and there are hundreds of examples of the bold choice being the right choice.”

Also hundreds of examples of the bold choice being a total failure, but I won’t mention that. “General, this will work.”

“How can you be so certain, Alexia?”

“Because I know Dupree and he’s seriously afraid of me. And he should be. Send the message, General. I accept.”

CHAPTER SIXTY

Alexia is still in pain. She is moving about her tent better now than she was several cycles ago but her steps are slow and deliberate, wincing frequently as she struggles to don her formal uniform. After several futile attempts to latch her breast plate, she looks towards me, frustration clear on her face.

“Dierdra. A little help?”

“A problem?” I innocently ask.

She scowls at me. “It’s too damn tight.”

“What do you expect?” I say as I stand and walk towards her. “That was fitted to you weeks ago. Things have changed.”

“I know, I know. Let me finish this and then we’ll all go home and I’ll be a good girl.”

Stepping behind her, I reach around and take both ends of the breast plate in my hands. “I will believe that when I observe it. Raise your hands above your head and inhale.”

She does so then grunts lightly as the breast plate latches tight. She twists back and forth a little, her breath catching in pain but says nothing, knowing she will get no sympathy from me.

“Not bad. I can probably wear this for a couple more weeks,” she says. I snort in disbelief but Alexia ignores me. “I think the uniform makes me look a little bad ass.”

I return to my seat. “There is an ass but it is not little.”

“Watch it, Dierdra. You know why I have to do this.”

“I know why you think you have to do this.”

She opens her mouth to respond but the bell outside her tent rings.

“Yes?” she answers.

“Sergeant Timbler requests to see you, my Queen,” a guard answers.

“Send him in.”

An older trooper limps in, his arm in a sling. “Thank you for seeing me, Alexia.”

It is a shock to hear someone of his rank speaking so informally to the Queen but she just smiles at him.

“What can I do for you, Sergeant?”

“I hears that we’re going full bogue today. Is that so?”

Alexia hesitates just a milicycles or two before answering. “If you mean are we committing all the troops in a final assault, then yes, it’s true.”

“I see. Then, if it’s all the same to you, I’ve changed me mind about you magicing away me injuries.”

“Sergeant, you’ve earned your time off. Go home, see your family. We can do this without you.”

“Begging your pardon, Ma’am, but no. You’ll be out front of us, you and your baby. If you’re out there and my boys are out there, I can’t be home. Wouldn’t be right, ya’ see.”

“Sergeant Timbler, they told me what you did. You saved my life … you saved my son’s life. Let me do this for you.”

“Twasn’t just me, Alexia. Lots more had a hand in it. I thought it was only fair and glad I had a chance to help but if this is really it, I gots to be there. Can’t miss the fun.”

“It won’t be fun, Sergeant, but it will be finished.”

“Either way, Ma’am, it wouldn’t feel right if I’m not there. You shouldn’t be there either but you are. What does that say about me if’n I’m not? I took an oath. Just fix me up and I’ll be on me way.”

I’m shocked.

“Alexia, you are about to fight another powerful witch to the death! You cannot afford to expend the energy to heal this man. Send him home to his family to recover. That is what is best for all.”

“This man saved my life, Dierdra. He carried me on his shoulder for over five leagues. If he and his squad had not risked their lives, I’d be dead now. He’s not asking for much and, frankly, I need to dump a little magic before we start this rumble anyway.”

“That makes no sense at all!”

“It does. I don’t want to appear to be too powerful before this begins. I might scare Tammy off. I want her nice and confident. Come here, Sergeant.”

Timbler hobbles the few steps to stand before Alexia. She lays her hands upon his shoulder and closes her eyes, breathing deeply. Quickly slipping into a Healer’s trance, she slowly slides her hands from his neck, across his shoulder and down his arm, then moving to his injured leg and doing the same. She opens her eyes, sighs, and steps back.

“There you are, Sergeant. Good as new. I’d cut back on the smoking if I were you. Those lungs are dirtier than I like to see.”

Timbler carefully slides his arm out of the sling while flexing his injured leg, a growing look of surprise on his face. “Jillian’s grace! It was like I was never shot in the first place. Me leg feels as good as it was born. Much obliged, Alexia. You do tree top work, you do.”

Alexia drops down into her chair, clearly tired.

“You’re welcome, Sergeant Timbler. I’ll be seeing you at the fight?”

“Aye, that you will. Got some money down.”

I’m shocked. Again. “The men are wagering on this challenge?!”

“Yes, Mistress Denson. Lots of money changes hands after a battle.”

“There are Guard betting against the Queen?”

“No, Ma’am. Only on how quickly she wins. I got between two cycles and two and a quarter cycles.”

Alexia waves the Sergeant over. “Let me give you a little inside information.”

He quickly slides her way. She grabs his shirt and pulls his head down where she can reach his ear. She leans forward, whispers something briefly then leans back as the sergeant jerks his head up.

“No! Tain’t no one picking that one!”

“Then you should get good odds, Sergeant,” she responds with a grin.

“That I will, my Queen. That I will. I’ll be off then, if’n there be nothing else.”

“One last thing, Sergeant Timbler. I’ll need an escort. I think you will do nicely.”

“Be happy to, Alexia, as long as I’m back with my boys before the fighting starts.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll make certain they’re positioned nearby.”

“They may not be too keen on that. We’ve had a busy few days, if you know what I mean.”

“Well, Sergeant, when trouble starts, would you rather be behind me or in front of me?”

He nods his head and then salutes. “Good point there, my Queen. You let me know when you need me.” He turns and saunters out past the tent flap.

“What did you tell him, Alexia?”

“I can’t tell you, Dierdra. If it gets out, it’ll ruin the odds!”

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

“First Minister, we need to leave now if we are to be in place before the Queen’s Guard arrives.”

“Yes, General, I understand. Queen Tammy is not quite ready yet.”

I have been waiting outside her tent for over twenty decicycles. Tasher rides by every few decicycles, informing me of the progress of preparations and checking on our witch. She has exhausted all my patience. I can wait no longer.

“Stand aside,” I order the men guarding her tent. They look at each other, shrug and step aside.

“My Queen,” I exclaim as I enter. “We need to leave immediately. There are preparations that must be made before Alexia arrives.”

I see her seated at her dressing table, applying makeup. She is dressed in a formal gown.

“My Queen, do you think this is appropriate attire for a fight to the death?”

She turns her head slowly to the right and then back to the left, carefully reviewing her face and upper body. “I need to make a memorable entrance, First Minister. There will be time to change my clothes before the fight begins.”

“We cannot afford delays.”

She hikes up the edge of her gown, revealing a leather sheath strapped to her leg.

“What is that for?”

She opens a drawer from her dressing table and removes a six milileague knife. She slips the knife snuggly in the sheath, drops her dress back down, the hem now at a decent length.

“That is my ‘Good Luck Charm,’ Dupree. It has saved my life more than once.”

“I thought that you said that you could defeat Alexia with your enhanced magic. Why bother with the knife at all?”

She stands, smoothing the lines of her dress with both hands. “As I said, a Good Luck charm that has many other uses. I intend to win this fight. How I win is my business.”

I feel better about this challenge already.

* * * *** * * * ***
The full complement of the Queen’s Guard is arrayed before me in all its glory as I stand on the top of a small hill. I asked General Dekes if I could briefly address the entire Guard before we left. He said that he didn’t think it was a good idea, that I might confuse the men. I told him to take a chill pill and suck it up.

Now that it’s time to move out, I don’t know what I should say exactly. I want to inspire them but everything I come up with sounds corny when I say it to myself. Best say something or both look and sound stupid.

“Men, we go to fight the last battle of this war. I am confident of victory but not so confident that you all can take it easy. Be alert, be on your toes, do your jobs and we can all be home this time next week, in the loving embrace of your wives or sweethearts or wives and sweethearts as the case may be. This has been a long fight and we have lost many good men, friends and comrades to us all. I regret every single one of those deaths and do not want any more of you to die today. Despite appearances, we are taking the fight to the enemy. They may believe that they have the advantage but they are wrong for it is us who will prevail.

“Every man out there has taken an oath to fight for the Queen and Country. I will hold you to that oath today but don’t just fight for me or this world but fight for your families, for a better life for all of them. As for Dupree and his rebels … they have all had more than one chance to surrender and return to our society, all disputes forgiven. They haven’t taken that offer. If someone surrenders to you, accept it. If they don’t, kill them. We aren’t taking involuntary prisoners today.

“Good luck and be careful.”

That line about no prisoners surprises them and there’s a lot of raucous cheering. I mean it. They can either join us or die.

The various squads begin to line up and move out, most of the men on foot but some are on horseback. A few gallop off immediately. They are the scouts, checking things out for the rest of us.

I climb into the back of a small wagon. Dierdra and Silva are waiting for me.

Silva is the first to accost me. “Surely you did not mean that, Alexia. No prisoners?”

“If they give up, we take them. They want to fight to the death? We oblige. After today, this is going to be a changed world.”

“But is it for the better?” Dierdra asks.

“I certainly hope so. We all want some good to come from this mess. It’ll all start in a few cycles. I’ll ride with you until we get close then walk the last league or so. I want to be loose and warmed up before we get down to business. It’s your job to not make a liar out of me. None of the Queen’s Guard dies today. I’ll do my part. You do yours.”

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

We are finally in place. Looking around the three steep sides of the box canyon, I have a difficult time locating the men with the RPGs even though I know where they are. Evenly spaced among the other men with a clear line of sight to the valley below, they will be the final surprise for Alexia and the Queen’s Guard should my witch fail. There are twenty nine of the weapons deployed around me with the thirtieth hidden behind my position, ready to be brought to bear on Alexia. I just hope that I get a chance to fire upon her even if Tammy succeeds. The last thing I want that witch to see before she dies is my smiling face as I pull the trigger on her doom.

General Tasher is standing down on the plain behind a pile of boulders that our men rolled together from the hundreds that litter the canyon’s plain. He signals toward me and sends a man up the hill to relay a message. The trooper scrambles over the rough, uneven ground until he reaches me, saluting before giving his report

“Our outriders have seen the Queen’s Guard, First Minister. They are less than a league to the east. General Tasher believes that they will be here in about a quarter cycle.”

“Very good, trooper. General Tasher is to keep their column under observation until they arrive. He is to make certain that there is no attempt to flank our position.”

“Understood, First Minister.”

I want to take no chances at this late date. Both Tasher and I are still suspicious as to why whoever is in charge of the Queen’s Guard accepted the challenge. They may be looking to trap us. We have men positioned on the top of the canyon walls, keeping a close eye on everything that happens around us.

Suddenly, one of those men whistles loudly and waves his extended arm back and forth, pointing toward the horizon in front of us. In short order, all those men are doing the same. They have spotted the main column of the Queen’s Guard.

The dust cloud appears before the men do but their numbers quickly become obvious to us all, numbers that are greater than I was expecting. I can see there is nervousness among my men as the Guard approaches. Despite our better weapons and advantageous strategic position, it is only natural to be concerned as the enemy nears.

It is now possible to see individual soldiers in the front of the mass of Guardsmen but there are two figures even further in front. They are centered and about twenty decileagues in the lead, one taller than the other but walking closely side by side.

After a couple of decicycles, they have drawn close enough to clearly see that even though both of them wear the uniform of the Queen’s Guard, the shorter one is wearing a long skirt and that she is leaning on the arm of the other for help in walking. It is Alexia! Tammy may have been correct. The witch may have been hurt more seriously than we had known. If that is the truth, why is she walking all this way? Why not simply ride up and dismount? She must be trying to send a message of some kind, that she is unharmed, strong and confident.

I am feeling better about our chances of winning the day with each passing milicycle.

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

“Are you well, my Queen?”

“What happened to ‘Alexia,’ Sergeant Timbler?”

“It didn’t seem right, not with the number of men and all.”

We had walked the last league or so together. At first, it was more of an act, me holding onto the Sergeant’s arm, crippling along, but the last few decicycles, it wasn’t as fake as it started out. I may have overestimated the extent of my recovery. Sergeant Timbler must have noticed it, particularly with me hanging on to his recently repaired arm.

“I’ll make it, Sergeant. If I’m hurting you, just say the word and I can get someone else to …”

“Think nothin’ of it, my Queen. Wouldn’t have it no other way. Don’t trust any of them cheating pigwits on the other side no way any how.”

We march along in silence, the ground getting rougher and rockier the closer we get to the box canyon. We’ve been able to see it for some time. The walls just keep getting higher and higher as we get closer. The plain starts out about a hundred thirty decileagues wide at the mouth but quickly narrows to practically a point at the end, just ninety decileagues total length. The rebel troops aren’t trying to hide; we can see them all over the hardscrabble terrain before us. If this doesn’t work, I’ve led my people into a deadly crossfire.

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

The Guard marches right up to the very mouth of the box canyon then abruptly stop, fanning out across the mouth from left to right, at least thirty men deep in some spots. They are not crowding each other but there is little space between them. Should this fail, our only escape is up and over the top of the hillside.

Alexia and her escort continue on with her occasionally stumbling slightly due to the uneven and rocky ground. I can see that her right hand is lightly bandaged, the fingers barely sticking out past the edge of the white cloth that covers her entire right hand and a good portion of her wrist.

By now, she is well in range of our RPG’s, as are the Queen’s Guard. I had Neighster set all of the RPG’s to detonate upon impact. If it comes to it, we’ll blow holes in their lines. My hope is that the Guard will be sensible once Alexia is dead. Certainly a few will wish to fight on but I am certain that most of the Guard bears no personal loyalty to her. They obeyed my commands once before, they will do so again.

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

We never decided on an exact spot where the fight is to take place. This is as good as any. I tap Sergeant Timbler’s arm.

“Sergeant, this is far enough. You can return to your men.”

He releases my arm but doesn’t move, shifting a little in place as he turns about, looking at all the men positioned on the slopes that surround us. There are thousands, armed as we are.

“Are you certain about this, Alexia?” he asks in a quiet tone. “I could just stand over here a bit, you know, just in case.”

The enormity of it all strikes me. What was I thinking? It had to be the hormones from the pregnancy. There’s a hundred ways this could go wrong and only one right way. Guess I better not blow it now.

“That’s alright, Sergeant. You go take care of your men and be ready when I signal.”

“My boys can take care of themselves. We’re pretty good about that. I could stay close by here.”

“I appreciate the offer, Sergeant, but what could you do? It’s my show and my ass on the line. Let me do my part and you do yours back there. Zaphod willing, it ends today with us drinking Klatch long into the night. The first bottle is on me.”

He takes another look around the rebel filled walls of the canyon and nods his head. “Aye, Zaphod willing. Take care, my Queen. The second bottle’s on me.”

He turns and begins the long walk back to our lines, leaving me alone in front of thousands of men that I have been chasing and attacking since first returning to this world.

Not a friendly face in the bunch. I spot Dupree at the very back of the canyon, about thirty feet up the wall, standing on a bit of a rock outcropping. He’s surrounded by other rebel troops, likely his body guards. I point towards him with my bandaged right hand.

“I’m here, Dupree. Where’s your witch? I’d like to get this done before it gets too hot.”

Dupree stands and walks forward to the end of the spit of rock, looking down at me.

“Have you no demands for our surrender? No threats of our death?” he shouts, probably a show of bravado for his men.

“No, not this time, Dupree. Every man here has had his chance to return to civil society before today. It’s too late now. I’ll accept your surrender after dealing with this renegade Queen of yours. Trot her out her. Chop chop. We’re burning daylight,” I shout back.

“Why should we return? What do you offer us? To be ruled by an ignorant otherworlder? We are MEN! We control our own fates! We will never…”

“Blah, blah, blah! Is this part of the challenge? Do I have to listen to your crap before we start the main event? If that’s the case, bring me a chair and some Klatch. It’ll keep me awake until you’re done. Bring me Tammy now or I’m gone. You got that, Dupree?”

“You are not in command here, WITCH! I care not what you demand. I will …”

I turn on my heel and start back the way I came.

“Wait! Wait!” Dupree screams. I keep moving, ignoring him until I’m certain he knows I mean business, then I stop and look at him over my shoulder.

“Are you done with the preliminaries?” I sneer. “Ready to put your money where your mouth is?”

“My what?” he asks, confused at my colloquialism.

“Just get your damn witch out here and stop wasting my time, Dupree.”

He forces a nonchalant laugh. “As you wish, my Queen.”

He waves his hand over his head. A loud cheer goes up from the rebel troops.

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

Insolent Bitch! Even now she refuses to treat me with the respect I have earned! What is that other world like, populated with creatures such as she? No matter, it will all be over soon.

When I signal for Queen Tammy to come forth from her hidden place, all the men cheer her and cast oaths and insults at Alexia. Tammy has been staying in a small cave off to my left, waiting for my call. She emerges on a sedan chair carried by four of her guards, waving to the men as they slowly cover the decileagues to where Alexia awaits, who pays no attention to the thunderous noise about her, instead walking about in a swerving pattern, examining the ground and stones around her.

As Tammy is carried, she shoots sparks and flashes of fire from her finger tips, each display bringing more cheers from my men. They are in a near riotous frenzy, waiving their guns in the air and jumping about, yet Alexia ignores it all, continuing to inspect the area around her. Tammy spreads her hands wide, lifting two rocks weighing at least twenty stone each ten decileagues off the ground and then smashing them together with enough force to reduce them to rubble and a cloud of dust. If she had thrown the rocks at the men, many would have died. Her power is impressive.

I think Tammy instructed her bearers to proceed slowly but I am becoming anxious. She is enjoying this parade much too much, the adulation clearly going to her head. She will be difficult to control after she defeats Alexia. Finally, they reach the end and slowly place the sedan chair on the ground. Tammy remains seated for several milicycles, still waving and firing sparks into the air above her. Alexia has not acknowledged her presence and Tammy seems to be waiting for her to do so. Eventually, Tammy rises from the chair and steps to the ground. The bearers quickly pick the chair up and rapidly depart, leaving the witches alone on the plain.

I have given the commanders strict instructions to make certain their men do not interfere with the contest in any way. A wild shot could injure Queen Tammy as easily as it could Alexia. My plan covers all eventualities so there is to be no other action upon threat of death. I raise my hands to bring a stop to the cheers and insults.

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

It feels like something out of Championship Wrestling.

The crowd going nuts, cheering their hero while at the same time scouring the bad guy. The hero makes a grand, excessive entrance, in this case on a raised chair carried by four men, clearly taking their own sweet time to get here. The hero is a late forty, early fifty year old woman, not bad looking for her age.

Dierdra had warned me not to take her lightly. She had survived many years of persecution by Opulessa and her Guard at the time. This was before The Consortium showed up but Opulessa had been pretty good at wiping out the competition without their help. Tammy had survived all that and killed a number of people in doing so, some of those people being witches. She’s also rumored to carry a knife should things get particularly nasty. In short, she’s tough, mean and skilled.

Right this moment, she seems a little too pumped by the crowd. She’s dressed a bit fancier than I am, more Queen-like actually. I picked up a lot of dust on the trek here so I’ve looked better but she’s dressed in bright red sequined long sleeve top and a long, full skirt. She is wearing sensible shoes though, a smart move on her part. Her hair is braided and piled up on her head. I finally give her my attention when her guard and chair leave.

“You ready to do this?” I ask, shouting over the noise of the crowd.

“I will kill you, girl!” she shouts back. “You are no match for me! I can feel your weakness! The day is mine.”

“Say ‘Hi’ to Opulessa for me when you see her.”

Dupree raises his hands before she gets a chance to reply. The noise falls away. He stands there, hands clenched over his head, holding the moment, basking in the attention and tension as he slowly turns left and then back right. He takes a deep breath.

“LET THE CONTEST BEGIN!” he bellows, driving his hands downward.

I hold out my left hand and stride towards Tammy, a smile on my face.

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

She wants to shake hands.

I had warned Queen Tammy that it would likely happen. The otherworlders always start everything with an extended hand. Meetings, parties, meals, casual greetings … everything. The men are silent as Alexia approaches Queen Tammy. Tammy does nothing and Alexia stops about a decileague in front of her, hand still extended.

“What is this?” Queen Tammy asks.

“That’s how we do it on my world. ‘Shake hands and come out fighting.’ Happens before every fight.”

“But we are in my world. We do not have such a custom.”

“Will it kill ya’ to humor me?”

“Dupree told me you would request this.”

“Did he tell you what to do when I did?”

“He said I should ignore you and your traditions.”

“I see. Do you always do what you are told to do?”

Queen Tammy glances up at me and then back to Alexia. She reaches out and forcefully grabs Alexia’s left hand with hers.

“No man tells me what to do.”

Alexis nods her head as they shake hands. “Good for you,” she says. “Now, we need to discuss the rules of this fight.”

Queen Tammy laughs loudly. “Rules?! There are no rules, girl! This is a fight to the death!”

“No rules?” Alexia asks.

“None, you simple girl!” Queen Tammy declares.

“None at all?” Alexia persists.

“Are you addlepated?! There are no rules!”

“Huh. I wish someone had mentioned this before now,” Alexia sighs.

Alexia quickly jerks Queen Tammy forward with her left hand. Tammy loses her balance and stumbles, almost falling. As she begins to recover her footing, Alexia strikes her forcefully in the face with her bandaged hand. Queen Tammy falls to the ground, face first. After a few milicycles, she feebly brings her hands underneath her and shakily pushes herself up but Alexia rapidly steps next to her and strikes her again in the jaw with a mighty blow using her injured hand. Queen Tammy collapses to the dust and remains still. Alexia reaches down and rolls her over onto her back. Tammy’s head flops to the side but she does not move, though she is breathing. Alexia steps away from the unconscious witch and begins to unwrap her right hand as she goes, letting the cloth trail behind her until it falls away, leaving something covering the top of her hand. She slides it off the hand.

“On my old world, we call these Brass Knuckles. I don’t know if you’ve got anything like em’. Looks like I win, Dupree. Ready to surrender?”

Up until now, the men had been silent, stunned by the quickness of the defeat but someone shouts out. “She is not yet dead! There is no victory!”

There is a general shouting of support but Alexia strides to the prone body, shifts Tammy’s skirt around and pulls the knife from it’s hidden spot, then lays it on her exposed neck.

“I was willing to let well enough alone, concede the two foot putt if you will, but if you require blood …”

“NO!” I shout. I’ll still need a living witch when this is done. Tammy should be more compliant in the future after this disaster. Alexia withdraws the blade and steps back from the body.

“Are you admitting defeat, Dupree?” she asks with a smile that fills me with bile.

“I admit … nothing!”

The trooper behind me swiftly passes the RPG forward and I smoothly shoulder it, aiming it directly at Alexia as I release the safety and finger the firing trigger. The other Fusiliers do the same.

“Who will be surrendering now?” I demand. Alexia just sticks the knife in the waist of her skirt and shakes her head.

“I’m a little disappointed, Dupree. Not surprised at all but still disappointed.”

“I care not for your feelings! Yield or I will blow you off the face of this world!”

She looks up at me, a sneer upon her face. “You may not care about my feelings but there is one thing you should care very much about, ex-First Minister Dupree.”

“What is that, my ex-Queen?”

She slowly raises her right hand to eye level, a single finger extended, which she points at me then pulls the finger back. I tighten my grip upon the RPG and increase the pressure on the firing trigger, ready for the first sign of a trick on her part. She carefully looks about her then returns her attention to me.

“You should care about which of us is closer to three quarter stone of high explosives, shrapnel and solid rocket fuel all with a simple little piezo-electric push button firing pin in its nose.”

The finger on her right hand pops forward as she dives to the ground behind Queen Tammy’s body. I hear a soft click in the front of the RPG just before I squeeze the firing trigger but the next sound is much louder than the one I heard while training. It is also much hotter and more painful.

CHAPTER SIXTY ONE

I dove for cover just as I simultaneously pushed the piezo-electric triggers in the noses of each of the thirty RPGs. I may not be at full magic strength but it doesn’t take much to push thirty buttons at the same time.

When I hit the ground behind the unconscious witch, I roll a few of the larger stones our way to surround us, creating some protection from the flying shrapnel. I hear the primary explosions of the warheads and then the secondary explosions of the solid rocket fuel. I also hear the sound of the metal shards striking the rocks around me. Those sounds fade away in milicycles, replaced by the screams if injured men. I push one rock aside and peer out.

There are large, blackened craters in the rock walls. Some are larger than others, indicating where both the warhead and rocket propellant exploded at one spot and there are smaller craters where the warhead exploded and the propellant canister was blown away before that canister also exploded, leaving its own crater and spray of shattered metal.

The one where Dupree stood is the larger variety, the entire rock cropping being blown off the wall. Hundreds of bodies and thousands of body parts lay on the ground around me, with more still lodged on the hillside above. There are even more men injured, many able to move but many others too hurt to go anywhere on their own.

I feel a brief urge to go and help those men but most wouldn’t welcome it. What I really need to do is get back to our lines before phase two starts. I quickly check Queen Tammy to see if she survived the explosions but it’s clear she didn’t. A hot piece of metal is stuck in her forehead. She likely died in the same explosion that got Dupree. If I hadn’t been hiding behind her, it may have gotten me also.

Most of the survivors seem to be scrambling up the face of the hillsides, looking to escape but you can be damned sure that if they knew I was here, they’d stop long enough to try to kill me and I haven’t got enough strength to put up a decent shield.

That was the bargain I made. I had to be weak enough for Queen Tammy not to fear me. That let me get in close and punch her out just like the old days. Trade physical strength and guile for magical strength. “No rules” means just that, no rules. Unfortunately, that leaves me in a bit of a pickle now.

Looking around, I see that while the large majority of rebels are trying to get away, there are some walking towards our lines unarmed and hands raised in surrender. If I can join that group by disguising my uniform, I could make it back before the Queen’s Guard attacks. The mounted troops are already headed for the top of the hillside to cut off the escape routes, the rest come marching in about five decicycles from now and the lead will start to fly.

I pause long enough to change my skirt into loose pants and alter the color to the rebel’s red. Thank Zaphod they have liberal policies about uniform styles. Once the changes are made, I scramble out from my pile of rocks, scoop up and don a discarded helmet and start walking towards our lines, hunched over to try to hide my figure.

If I had more power, I could completely change my appearance or even fly there in milicycles but those aren’t options now. Shuffling back the way I came, I try to keep pace with the rebel troops moving the same direction but avoid contact with anyone. Just moving along like a leaf floating on the surface of a small stream.

The man to my left starts to eye me suspiciously. I slide a little farther to the right and speed up but he picks up his pace and comes directly towards me, grabbing my left wrist, holding me up.

“What do you want?” I gruffly demand, keeping my head turned slightly away from him. It doesn’t work because he begins to stutter.

“It – it – it – it – is – is – is – you – you …”

I twist my left wrist from his grip and immediately grab his wrist with that hand while pulling Queen Tammy’s knife from the waist of my pants with my right hand, slipping the point up against his stomach, penetrating his uniform until the blade barely touches bare skin, his eyes widening and his breath catches in his throat.

“Yes, it’s ME!” I hiss. “And this is my little friend. Unless you want me to push it all the way through you, you’ll keep your mouth shut and just keep walking right along with me. If you understand, nod your head once. Nice and slow.”

There is sweat on his brow as his head dips down and slowly returns.

“Good. You stay still as I just shift around a bit. Move and I’ll slit your throat so fast; you won’t know it until your head falls off.”

He freezes as I remove the blade from pressing against his stomach, slide my left hand around his waist and place his right arm over my shoulder, keeping the knife in my right hand, which is sitting between us at waist level.

“Now, we’re going to walk back to my lines, nice and easy. You do anything to betray me and it will be the last thing you ever do. If we get back to my lines, you’re a free man. You’ll never get a better deal. Nod once if you accept my generous and final offer.”

He once again slowly bobs his head.

“Excellent!” I whisper. “Let’s get going.”

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

In all my days, I never seen nothing like it. All them explosions at nearly the same time then other smaller explosions almost immediately after.

We was told that when the Queen went to the ground that we all were to do the same. They didn’t bother saying why, just do it. Well, she did and we did and then the pieces of the rebel’s bodies started to fly about. A few of our men didn’t get down fast enough and they got hit by whatever came from those explosions but they twern’t hurt badly. Now, we is straining at the collar to move forward into the canyon before us. Most of the Guard is wanting to get theirs back against the rebels. Me and my men want to find the Queen. Corporal Lichmer peers intently down the plain.

“Do you think she lived through that, Sergeant? She looked mighty weak just before.”

“If anyone could, the Queen would, Corporal. Just keep an eye open for her when we charge. That goes for the lot of you, understand?”

All of the squad either nods their heads or call out. We’ll find her if she’s there to be found.

“One Queen’s as good as another. There’s always another damn witch ready to wear the crown,” a voice behind me snarls.

I slowly turn and sees a sergeant of the 2nd Regiment nearby, sighting down his rifle towards the few rebels struggling toward our lines.

“What are you doing there, son?” I quietly ask. My boys recognize the tone of voice and step away from us.

“As soon as we get the word, I’m killing me some rebel scum,” he answers.

“The Queen said we accept them rebels that surrender.”

“Don’t see no branches over their heads,” he mutters, not looking away from the sights of his rifle.

“Now where is that lot going to find branches out there in that Zaphod forsaken sand spit?”

“Tain’t my concern, is it?”

“The Queen said …”

“The sodden Queen tain’t here, is she? Who cares what a slattern named Alexia says about …”

I’ve heard more than enough from this pifler. I quickly step forward and knee him in the nethers. Grabbing his uniform collar and jerking him back up after he drops his rifle and he starts to double over, I pull his face near to mine, a face contorted in pain and anger as he tries to catch his breath.

“Listen to me, my son. That woman is the salvation of this world. If she tells you to do something, you stopple right to it. Anything else and you’ll answer to me and my men. Understand?”

“Is there a problem here, Sergeant Timbler?”

I don’t even need to turn around to see who said that. “Nothing wrong at all, Alexia. Glad you made it back. I was just explaining your orders to this man.”

She steps next to me, I can see her out of the corner of my eye. She’s dressed in rebel red but in a blink, she’s back in her usual Guard uniform.

“I thought my orders were simple and clear.” She looks the man in my grasp up and down. “Corporal.”

He finally gets his breath back. “It’s sergeant … my Queen,” he croaks.

“WAS sergeant, now corporal, or am I wrong about that, Timbler?”

I release the chastised Guardsman and brush some dust off his sergeant’s emblem with the back of my hand.

“Pity to boot a man for just a single mistake, Alexia.”

“I defer to your sage judgment, Sergeant Timbler. You stay with your men and I’ll take this man with me, just to be certain there are no more mistakes. Oh, you’re with me too.”

I look about me and see a trembling rebel soldier standing just outside of my squad.

“Friend of yours, Alexia?”

“I made certain promises and certain threats. He kept his part of the deal and I’ll make sure that my part is kept. You and your men be careful, Sergeant Timbler. I’d rather you all come back healthy than take too large a risk to kill rebel soldiers. We’ll get them all sooner or later. Also, keep a look out for First Minister Dupree’s body. I’d like to have absolute proof that he’s dead, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“As you wish, my Queen.”

She pats my shoulder. “You’re quite the card, Sergeant. First bottle of Klatch is on me.”

“Aye, and the second is on me, Alexia.”

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

I hadn’t gotten thirty decileagues from Sergeant Timbler and his men before a loud cry went up from my Guard and the entire score of men charge forward with a deafening roar. They move barely fifty decileagues and halt, the front third falling to the ground onto their stomachs, the second third dropping to their knees and the final back third remaining on their feet, each group aiming their weapons at a different portion of the surrounding hills. A single command is shouted out and they all begin firing at once, sweeping the rocky hills with concentrated fire, rebel troops falling and sliding down the hills as they are caught up in the hail of bullets. They continue firing until the entire area has been covered. There is very little organized fire in response from the rebels, their spirit and confidence shattered by the destruction spread by the exploding RPGs.

“Come with me, gentlemen,” I tell the sergeant and rebel trooper that are following me. I quickly walk to the small group of generals that remained behind after the Guard moved forward and engaged the enemy. General Fortney was the first to notice my approach but he quickly notified Dekes, who was all smiles as I arrived.

“My Queen,” he says, bowing deeply, as do all the others. “I am so very pleased that you have come through the confrontation unharmed. It appears that all is proceeding as you thought it would. The rebels are fleeing into our trap established by our mounted Guard at the top of the ridges. The remaining rebels are being dealt with by the rest of the Guard.”

“You mean ‘killed’, don’t you Dekes?”

“Yes, my Queen. Killed. Was that not what you ordered?”

“Yeah, I did. I also told you to accept all surrendering rebels.” I point to the sergeant behind by using my right thumb over my shoulder. “This man didn’t seem to get the message. I had to tell him not to pick off unarmed rebels approaching our lines.”

“What is your name and designation, sergeant?!” Dekes barked.

The sergeant salutes before responding. “Sergeant Benson Araba, First Regiment, Squad six general, Sir.”

Dekes turns his attention back to me. “He will be punished for his disobedience, my queen.”

I wave him off. “Don’t bother, General Dekes. I’m giving Sergeant Araba a new assignment. He’s to make sure that this rebel trooper makes it safely home. Give him the necessary papers, passes or whatever documents he needs. They leave today. Sergeant Araba, you report directly to me when you return to Glory. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my Queen.”

I fix my gaze on the rebel. “What’s your name?”

“Eldean. Thomas Eldean … my Queen.”

“Well, Mr. Eldean, I expect no more trouble from you. If you disappoint me … let’s just leave it at you do not want to disappoint me. I won’t be a happy camper. Ya’ follow?”

He quickly bows twice. “Yes, my Queen. I follow.”

“Good. You both are free to go. General Dekes, have your men bring any wounded survivors to the Healer’s tent. Guard or rebel, I want them brought there. I’m heading that way right now.”

“Is that wise, my Queen? There could be bad feelings, maybe even worse.”

“It may not be wise, General, but it is necessary. I’ll be there to keep the peace. Let’s hold up the Victory celebration for a couple of days until we can get the rebel prisoners out of the way. Klatch and easily reached rebels are not a good mix.”

“Assuming it is a victory, my Queen.”

“If it isn’t, send someone to get me. I’ll finish it.”

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

We all worked long into the night and through the morning of the next day caring for the wounded.

I wish there had been more.

Alexia, Silva and I assisted the Guard’s Healers in caring for the few injured Guardsmen and the numerous injured rebel troopers. I must admit that I felt a certain unwillingness to care for the rebels but Alexia took to it with unusual enthusiasm. None were foolish enough to criticize her for this.

As she had predicted, no Guardsmen died that day. Several were hurt, a few badly but they all recovered. The same could not be said for the rebel troopers. Any of them who survived long enough to reach our care recovered from their wounds but, though there were many injured, so many more died that day.

Including First Minister Dupree and “Queen” Tammy. Her body was found right where Alexia said it would be. Alexia mourned the loss. I believe she thought she might be able to bring Tammy over to our side and find a good use for her skills but what I know of Tammy’s reputation makes me certain that she was not what Alexia calls a “team player.” Far from it. Perhaps, if she had been younger and not so affected by her years of being hunted, there might have been a chance, but it was likely too late for her, as it was for Opulessa.

First Minister Dupree’s fate was a little harder to determine. We never did find his head. Perhaps parts of it. A goodly number of body parts were found that may have been his but that was based on the shreds of clothing on those body parts. They were mixed with the parts of other bodies so there was a bit of uncertainty.

In the end, Alexia used her phone and kom-pew-ter to take a picture of each dead body that could be recognized and saved it. Each such identifiable body was then buried in a separate grave on the top of the hills surrounding the box canyon. The rest of the parts were buried in a mass grave. Alexia wanted to help any person who was searching for the remains of a loved one to find where they may lay.

It took several days for the Guard to recover all the complete and partial bodies, organize them for identification, record them and then bury them. By the end of that week, Alexia had recovered almost all her strength but not her sense of purpose. We talked often in those days, mostly at night and she was haunted by the faces of the dead men she had recorded before burial. She swung back and forth between anger at what she believed she was forced to do to those men in order to save this world and relief that it was finally over, at least for now.

Her mood recovered remarkably once both Johnathyn and Leeanna arrived. They both already knew that she was with child and after a surprisingly brief fight, Johnathyn forgave her for keeping the information from him and taking the risks that she did. She promised that he would be the first to know whenever she became pregnant in the future. Leeanna was simply excited about having a brother.

As Alexia had requested, all celebrations of victory had been delayed until the surviving rebel troops had been sent away to a temporary prison camp. Alexia promised them all that they would be eventually released if they had committed no war crimes but that if they had, there might be trials held in the future. She was going to appoint a group of people from all the regions to review any complaints and the evidence, leaving it totally in their hands.

The celebration among the Guardsmen was more muted than I expected, probably due partially to the lack of available young women and the presence of the Queen’s young daughter. Whatever the reason, the Klatch did flow freely and there were some problems with drunkenness, but again, we are not too near civilization so those problems were relatively easy to deal with.

Finally, everything was completed where we were and it was time to return to Glory. Groups of Guardsmen had been sent back to the capitol as their assignments were finished over the last two weeks since the final victory but General Dekes was satisfied that everything we could be reasonably expected to do had been done and that it was time to return to Glory.

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

Johnathyn is idly rubbing my baby bump as we lay in bed. We have shared my tent ever since he and Leeanna came to camp last week. General Dekes produced a large double bed from somewhere. Leeanna has spent most nights with Dierdra, giving us time to be somewhat alone but Dierdra and Silva are leaving today to return to Glory.

I had apologized to Johnathyn the moment he arrived but he wouldn’t accept it. Can’t say that I blame him. He was as angry as I have ever seen him but he was also as happy as I have ever seen him. It was a short but intense argument. I couldn’t say he was wrong about me not telling him right away about the baby, or about the chances I took but he couldn’t argue with why I did it or the end results. We were mostly fighting on principle.

Unfortunately, the makeup sex was more restrained than I preferred. Having about a thousand men listening through thin canvas walls is a bit of a mood killer.

We were spending this morning like we had spent the last few, lounging in bed while the camp woke up around us. Breakfast wouldn’t arrive for another ten decicycles or so. We had some time to ourselves and I needed to talk with him about the future.

“Johnathyn?”

“Yes, my wife?”

“We need to make some decisions before we get back to Glory.”

He stops rubbing my tummy and sits up. “Agreed. What are we naming our son?”

“We don’t have to do that now, do we? Most parents here don’t know the child’s sex until the baby’s born. That I know it’s a boy is a bit of a fluke.”

“Dierdra could eventually have known, as could Silva or many of your other witch sisters.”

“Fine, yes, eventually, they would have guessed it, but I know now and we’ve got time yet. I’m barely showing.”

He cocks his head to the side, looking down at my stomach then up at my face, smiling slightly.

“If you say so, my wife. If not about our son, about what do you wish to speak?”

Can someone be both endearing and infuriating at the same time? If so, Johnathyn can be damn endeariating at times.

“We’re heading back to Glory in a day or so. Dierdra and Silva will get there well ahead of us because they’ve taken a fast carriage and we’re traveling with the Guard.”

“As you should. You will be protected and not jostled about in one of those dangerous rattle trap carriages.”

It’s going to be a long pregnancy. Johnathyn is so protective, I’ll have to fight him every inch to not be bed ridden. Dierdra’s not a whole lot better.

“I know, I know. You insisted and I agreed. The thing is, when we get to Glory, I can’t be some pregnant hothouse flower waiting to drop a seed. I’ve got to be out, mixing with the people, selling them on the future we’ve got planned.”

“Surely you do not want to tell them everything?”

“No. Not at all. We made that mistake the first time. Everything moved too fast. This time, we talk about the good stuff, things that will improve their lives, and then we need to deliver on it, fast. The government changes will be slower, incremental. The people will have a chance to adjust. If we’re lucky, people will actually start demanding changes.”

Johnathyn slips out of bed, walks over to his clothes hanging on a chair and begins to dress. He doesn’t say anything but I know he’s thinking about something. I catch myself expressing a little satisfied grin at recognizing his pattern. In the past, I would have been pushing him for his opinion by now but this time I just let him be. He’ll tell me when he’s ready.

It surprises me how comfortable I feel at this moment. I’m a pregnant woman, patiently waiting for my husband to tell me what he thinks. It seems like ages ago that I was a man in go-go New York, rushing here and there, accomplishing very little of consequence. I wouldn’t go back to that life at gunpoint. Johnathyn coughs lightly, clearing his throat. He’s ready.

“Not everyone will welcome your ascension to the throne. You may have defeated the rebels on the field of battle but they represent a large portion of the people who will resist any kind of change. There is also the rather large number of surviving family of the dead rebels. How will they react to you? Opulessa was hated by many but more could hate you at this time.”

“I know,” I respond quietly. “I knew that would happen when I decided to go down that road. There’s no way to avoid it. It was a civil war, for Zaphod’s sake. All I can do is treat everyone fairly and hope for the best.”

“Their feelings about you could color their interpretation of the ‘fairness’ of your acts. The losing side is likely to bite at a helping hand. The winning side might object to the helping hand even being offered in the first place.”

“That’s why I’ve got to start out as the tyrant Queen. I might be able to buy a period of peace to give us some room to work. It’ll be a fine line between authoritarian and firm but fair. One thing that could help us is this.” I pat my slightly swollen belly. “There’s something inherently sympathetic about a pregnant woman. Other women are empathetic and men are protective. You see how the Guard treats me. I might as well be a goddess. Opulessa was never treated this way.”

“You have done much more for the Guard than Opulessa ever did.”

“You’re right, but it’s more than that, Johnathyn. I’ve seen how men are around pregnant women. There’s some kind of built in, instinctual, protective nature. I felt it when I was a man. If a pregnant woman got pushed around on the subway, six different guys would react and defend her. Admittedly, a bunch of other guys wouldn’t do anything but that was New York. Something like that happen in the Midwest or the South, or Zaphod forbid, Texas, the number helping out goes way up. I’m saying being pregnant gives me something to use to help us out.”

“But you will not stay pregnant forever or even for very long. Eventually, you will give birth.”

“Mothers with young children get almost as much respect as pregnant women … and pregnant women with young children get extra respect.”

“What are you saying, Alexia?”

“You said you wanted a large family, didn’t you, Johnathyn? No better time than the present.”

“Are you certain? I may have said that in passing but you did not join in. I do not wish for you to bear my children simply because there is a political advantage.”

“I didn’t join in because it never really occurred to me that I could get pregnant. Sure, intellectually I knew it was possible but that didn’t mean I had accepted it emotionally. I was absolutely shocked when Dierdra said I was pregnant. Looking back, the facts were clear, but the possibility never even entered my mind. Now it’s about all that I can think about. Do you know what I’m doing when I’m sitting quietly in that chair over there?”

“No, I do not.”

“I’m watching our child, our son. I’m watching him grow, move his tiny arms and legs, turn his head to look at me. He knows that I’m there. Sometimes, I swear he smiles at me. I even catch a thought or two once in a while, though it’s probably my imagination. I could do that all day.”

Johnathyn simply stares at me, shaking his head.

“I must say that I am very jealous of you right now,” he finally says. “You are spending time with our son in a way that I cannot and never will.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to bond. You can be ‘Chief Diaper Changer.’ The main thing I’m saying is that I think I like this motherhood gig. We’ll have to see what happens after he’s born, but I don’t think I’m going to change my mind. If we’re going to have more kids, we might as well have them quickly.”

Johnathyn steps next to the bed and holds out his right hand. I grab it with my right and he gently pulls my naked body up against his clothed body, wrapping me in his arms.

“If you want more children, my wife, I will certainly do my part to help,” he says with a big smile.

I snuggle up against him and kiss his cheek.

“I knew I could count on you, my husband.”

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

The entire city has turned out to see the return of the Queen. People line the entire length of the main boulevard leading to the Palace. The closer you got to the Palace, the deeper the crowd. We had some platforms built nearest to the Palace for dignitaries such as regional Patrons and their city mayors to come and have a good seat without fighting to the death for it. There is a large demand for these seats because all those currently in office wish to show loyalty to the Queen, even if they only recently discovered that loyalty.

I have found a large luxury closed carriage for Alexia and her family to ride in. Silva took it out to the border of Glory where she was to meet the Queen’s Guard who would then escort the carriage to the Palace. The mounted Guard will come first, the marching Guard will be next and the Queen will be third. General Dekes and his staff will lead the parade. The plan is for them to dismount at the Palace, take seats in the reviewing stand and the rest of the Guard will go by and then the Queen will arrive. The entire procession should take less than a cycle.

The crowd is growing restless as the time for the parade comes and goes. There is no word from the Guard but I see Steinvald walking quickly towards me from the Palace.

“Dierdra! I was in the North Tower and saw the horsemen coming this way!”

“At last! Is the carriage there?”

“Yes but I could only get a glimpse of it.”

“Thank you Steinvald, take your seat with the rest of the Council and let us hope there are no more delays.”

We both hurry to our seats and return to waiting. After about twenty decicycles, the first group of Guard horsemen appear at the far end of the wide road. We can hear the cheering and applause in the distance which grows louder as they approach the Palace. They are moving at a slow pace, acknowledging the people as the horses stride forward, tossing their heads about. General Dekes and his staff are all in the front row of horsemen, smiling and nodding their heads, occasionally raising a hand to respond to the cheers.

When the Generals reach the viewing stand, they all dismount in unison, handing the reigns to their mounts off to some Guardsmen who lead the horses off to the side as the men take their place next to the Witch’s Council. General Dekes is seated next to me. Dekes bows as he greets me.

“Zaphod’s blessings upon you, Mistress Denson.”

“Thank you, General Dekes. I am pleased to see that you have returned home without incident.”

He takes his seat. “I am sorry for the delay but we were held up in getting all the men aligned and organized. We had to add all those who had returned earlier. I thought that every Guardsman should have the chance to receive the nation’s thanks. The Queen agreed.”

“I do not doubt that for a moment. The wait was not burdensome, I was just concerned.”

“We really need to use those radios provided by the Queen. A very useful device.”

Dekes settles back in his seat and the men begin to move past us. The horsemen proceed in a somewhat organized manner, the horses in lines six wide across the road but the occasional horse was out of position. Once the horses had passed, the majority of the Guard began to march by but they were much less organized. It was more like a crowd of uniformed men with the odd man carrying a child upon his shoulder or accompanied by his wife. There were many smiles and much laughter among the men, bottles of klatch being handed to them from the crowd along the road. The joy and relief due to the end of the war washed over everyone.

Before long, the carriage carrying the Queen and her family appeared and the cheers became louder still. I could see a small hand outside one of the windows waving wildly. That has to be Leeanna. She must be enjoying this immensely. The final group of Guardsmen marches by and the carriage pulls off to the side near the main Palace doors.

“Excuse me, General. I need to greet the Queen,” I say as I stand.

General Dekes smiles up at me. “Certainly, Mistress Denson. Be careful where you walk.”

I hurry down the wooden steps, hop onto the road and walk with as much grace as possible to the carriage, reaching it as a Guardsman opens the door. Leeanna is out the door instantly, full of energy.

“Dierdra! Isn’t this all wonderful! All these people! And the war is over too! Father and Mother can come back and we can all be together again.”

“Yes, it is wonderful, dear. You best get used to it. The life of the Queen involves many such events.”

Johnathyn’s body fills the door of the carriage. He turns sideways to squeeze out the exit.

“I do not view that as a positive thing, Mistress Denson, but we have accepted it as necessary to accomplish our goals.”

“The Queen can decide how many events she wishes to attend, Johnathyn. As she is with child, many will be understanding.” I step forward and peer into the carriage but it is empty. I turn to Johnathyn. “Where is Alexia?”

Leeanna points to the sky. “She’s coming.”

I look up but see nothing. As I return my attention to Leeanna, she removes a radio from the pocket of her dress and pushes a button on it, causing it to make a shrill, high pitched tone.

“Big black here. Over.”

She brings the device up to her mouth. “You are cleared for landing, Mother. Over.”

“Where is Alexia, Leeanna?”

“I already TOLD you,” she responds in an exasperated tone. She again points to the sky. “Up there.”

I look again but concentrate on the area she pointed to. At first, I still see nothing but then notice a dark spot … which is rapidly getting larger … and larger. I glance back at Leeanna, afraid to ask the question but she answers before I can utter it.

“Mother wants everyone to meet Lilly.”

By Zaphod’s beard, her dragon! I can see it now, wings tucked in, diving towards the ground. Some of the people in the viewing stand have also seen it for they are pointing in its direction. The Guardsmen who have been milling about are all smiles, as if they knew this was going to happen. I jerk my head around to stare at General Dekes. He is just sitting in his seat, arms folded, as relaxed as he could be.

“You could have warned me!” I shout.

He shrugs his shoulders, pointing to the sky with his thumb. “Talk to her,” he answers.

The dragon continues to plummet from the sky, straight down until it disappears behind the line of buildings on the horizon. There is a sudden gasp from the crowd when it does so, then silence, then the roar of a mighty beast but mixed with the metallic sound of bells or metal striking metal. The roar quickly gets louder and louder until the dragon appears, flying barely ten decileagues above the street, charging down the road, wings outstretched, towards the Palace at incredible speed, a tall cloud of dust trailing behind it. It flashes overhead, the Guardsman first shouting their approval then choking on the dust that swirls in its wake. The beast immediately heads skyward, both spiraling and spinning as a barrel rolling down a hill. I catch glimpses of Alexia, sitting astride the creature’s broad shoulders, hunched forward. The ascension stops at two hundred decileagues or so, at which point, the dragon rolls over on its back, wings spread to their fullest, and it drops back down towards the courtyard in front of the Palace. Civilians begin to scream and run for cover but the Guardsmen remain steadfast, those with family assuring them that there is nothing to fear. At the last moment, the dragon pulls up, performs a complete loop, and gently settles to the ground with the merest bump.

Alexia rapidly dismounts to the cheers and huzzahs of her Guard. The dragon Lilly then jumps into the air off its massive haunches, flaps its wings a few times to get higher into the air and finally settles on the roof of the North Tower with what could only be described as a look of contented smugness.

Alexia allows the cheers of the Guard to continue until the people join in and then she waves the crowd to silence.

“I beg your pardon for my entrance but I could not resist the urge for one last ride. As many of you know, I am with child and neither my husband nor my Healer is likely to allow me to go riding again anytime soon.”

The cheers are even louder than before from both men and women. No Queen has ever been with child while she was Queen, at least there is no record of it. It makes Alexia seem more like the people, someone that has the same worries and problems that they have, the same joys and good fortune. It may help her. She waits several milicycles before continuing.

“I am humbled by your reception, my subjects. I promise that I will rule this land with your well being my primary concern. There are going to be changes, some of them easy, some difficult. Some will be made quickly and others will take longer, possibly years, but they will be done. I know that you have likely heard some of these promises before but this time, we will deliver. There will be improvements in healthcare, better and cleaner roads, more and better jobs, better schools for every boy … and girl.”

You can feel a slight change in the mood of the crowd. There are many who would oppose the education of girls but also many who would support it. Alexia is not going to avoid difficult choices; she is setting out her objectives for all to hear.

“This can be a better world for ALL my subjects and I intend to do whatever is necessary to make sure that is exactly what happens. As of today, there will no longer be any bribery. It will end. No person should be forced to pay a government official to do their job. All of my government’s representatives will be paid a fair wage but that is all they will receive. No one will get rich by stealing from the poor.”

I don’t bother to look around at the various Patrons and Mayors who fill a large portion of the stands. They can feel the pressure Alexia is putting on their purses. Those men who might object to the education of women are also men who are well tired of paying their hard earned money to corrupt government workers. Alexia is offering them things they like and dislike but they will not get to pick and choose.

“Nor will the merchants be permitted to make people work as slaves because they owe a debt. All workers will be paid a fair wage, including those who are employed by the Consortium. Yes, I am allowing them to return to this world but the rules have changed. They will be exemplary employers or the will pay a very severe price. Any money they pay my government for the right to use our land or sell our resources will be used to fulfill my promises to you, my subjects.”

I can feel the sincerity of her words. She truly believes exactly what she is saying. She is offering her honest vision for our world. There is no falsehood here. Looking around me, I can see more people nodding their heads in agreement and smiling than muttering to their neighbor and frowning.

“There will be sacrifices made but they will be shared sacrifices. I will not sit inside these Palace walls waiting for your tribute. I will be out among you, listening to your problems and trying to help where and when I can. I cannot offer you miracles but I can offer you my best efforts on your behalf. Any person with a good new idea will be permitted to try to make it work. I will not guarantee your success, nor will I promote your failure. I will not be picking winners or losers. Your success will depend on the merit of your ideas.”

The mood of the crowd is improving. The people are starting to believe in her. They are accepting her vision.

“However, there is one thing I will guarantee. That is peace. This civil war is ended and there will never be another. There will never be another power vacuum for a person or group to exploit. I am here, I am on the throne, and I’m not leaving ever again. This is my world, my rules, my peace and no opposition will be tolerated!”

Lilly gives a roar, capturing everyone’s attention, and shoots a blast of flame into the air to emphasize Alexia’s point. The air about us becomes slightly colder and darker despite the flame, causing me to shiver in recognition. I remember this exact feeling! Back before the attack on the Palace, the morning after Alexia and Johnathyn had relations for that first time, the day her presence as a powerful witch fully manifested. There was first the aura of sweetness and light but there was also a moment of darkness and anger, a threat of terrible things to come should Alexia not be obeyed. It was but a brief moment but it was seared into my memory. And now I can feel it again.

Alexia has wrapped everyone in this plaza with her presence! Perhaps everyone along the route of the Parade … or even, Zaphod forbid, the entire city. Because of my training, I can recognize the effect, as should the other witches but they all seem to be as caught up in the moment as the rest of the people. Alexia pauses her speech, allowing the threat of how she would deal with those who oppose her to hang in the air. I have never heard of a witch projecting her presence to such a large number of people before. Opulessa could do small groups of ten or twelve but not thousands at one time. Now she begins again.

“There will be acceptable ways to bring problems and objections to my attention without threat of harm but armed opposition will be met with the full force of the Queen’s Guard as led by me … and my friends.” Lilly roars again, punctuated by another stream of flame. “This world has paid a heavy price for peace, the deaths of so many young, brave men on both sides, many at my own hands. I cannot express the regret and loss that I feel about those deaths.”

Alexia’s presence quickly shifts to the pain she feels at the deaths of so many men. As I know what is happening, I can resist the effects but that does not make me immune. Her sorrow is both great and real. She is showing the people what is in her heart.

“While it will never fully compensate for the loss, it is vital that we make certain that those families that suffered the loss of the support of a loved one not be left without any financial assistance. My government will provide a regular payment for life to the surviving wife or parents of a Guardsman killed in this war!”

The cheers return, particularly from the Queen’s Guard, banishing the feelings of pain and despair that had filled the plaza milicycles before, which are gone but not forgotten. She raises both hands to quiet the crowd.

“And, in order to promote reconciliation and healing, I propose to treat the survivors of the rebel dead in exactly the same manner as the survivors of the dead of the Guard because we are all brothers under the skin. If my brother or sister suffers then I also suffer. We must settle our differences if this world is to move into a new and glorious future. Will you help me do what is necessary to make this a better world, a better life for our children?”

I would not have thought it possible but the cheers are even louder than before. Men around me who had appeared to be openly against everything Alexia was saying are now on their feet, shouting themselves hoarse, declaring their undying support for her. She bows her head, letting the sound wash over her. She stays that way for decicycles before finally looking up and around and then again raising her hands, her subjects falling silent.

“I am honored and energized by your support!’ she declares. “Today is the first day of a better life for all. I would like to go inside and start work immediately but I have one big promise to keep before doing so.” Alexia whistles loudly and Lilly takes to the air, circling and dropping down until she lands right next to Alexia, who pats the side of her sparkling black neck before stepping across the plaza to a large group of people just to the right of the viewing stand. She stretches her right hand out, palm up and parallel to the ground.

“Codii,” she says. “It’s time for that ride I promised.”

There’s a loud, happy squeal and a young girl bursts from the crowd, grabbing and hugging the Queen just below her knees. She’s quickly followed by a young woman and man, both of whom I recognize. They are Marteen and Marta Cantell, the woman who Beckwith injured and her husband. The child must be Codii Cantell. Alexia touches each of them on a shoulder with her hands.

“Don’t worry. It’s as safe as kittens.”

“What’s a kitten?” Marta Cantell asks.

“Okay, it’s as safe as little baby ducks. How’s that?”

“If you say so, Alexia,” Marta replies. “Codii would never forgive me if I said ‘no.’”

“You’re probably right about that. Come on, Codii.” Alexia lifts the child into the air. “Time to mount up.”

Alexia carries the child to Lilly, allowing her to rub her hand along the dragon’s neck before setting the child in place and climbing on right behind her. Both of them wave to the Cantells and Lilly takes off, circling the plaza as she lazily flaps her wings, rising into the sky, the gradually fading sound of a child’s cheerful laughter echoing off the surrounding buildings.

EPILOGUE

I have been riding the fast carriage for almost a full day, accompanied by a half squad of mounted Guardsman. Thankfully, they are with me for more of a ceremonial function than for protection. As the Queen’s Healer, there are certain benefits when I travel on official business. While there are bandits in this part of the country, none are foolish enough to strike at a carriage with the Queen’s crest prominently displayed, not after what happened to the bandits near Doker.

Lilly left nothing standing. Alexia insisted, claiming that it was good for her to ‘keep her hand in’ as she put it. Remind the people who she was and what she could do if pushed. I doubt any have forgotten that these past five years.

I knock on the roof with my right hand, getting the driver’s attention. He slides the partition in the front wall aside so that we can speak.

“How much longer before we reach Winstead?” I ask loudly so as to be heard over the rumble of the wagon and the jingle of the tack of the six horses.

“We should be there at least two cycles before nightfall, Mistress Denson. We are making good time.”

As we should. This road is only two years old and the wagon one of the new ones with an improved under-carriage. One of Johnathyn’s designs. It is a much smoother ride than the old style fast carriage yet it is lighter than before. I settle back into my padded seat and drift off to sleep.

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

I am awakened when the wagon comes to a stop, jostling me about. I lean forward and peer out the side window. Much has changed in my home town since I left with Alexia so many years ago. This is only my fifth visit and it keeps growing. I wish I had been awake as we drove through town so that I could have seen the latest changes, Well, there is always tomorrow.

We have stopped just outside the town hall and I see the Mayor’s assistant, Mary Donnavan, hurrying down the stone steps to great me. She grabs the side door handle, turns it and pulls it open, unveiling the hidden iron steps, which she pulls out and sets up just outside the wagon’s side door.

“Mistress Denson! We were not expecting you so soon!”

“I am aware of that. The Queen gave me leave to change the schedule and travel ahead of her.”

“For whatever reason, you are most welcome. The Mayor would be here to greet you personally but is in a meeting.”

“This late? It is after mealtime.”

“I know. There is no end to official business. Will you be staying at your home?”

“If everything is ready.”

“It is. I supervised the work myself.”

“Then I am certain all will be satisfactory. As usual.”

I slide over to the door and begin to exit. The driver leans around the edge of the carriage.

“Do you wish to ride to your home, Mistress Denson?”

“No, driver. I prefer to walk. You and the Guardsmen are dismissed for the evening. I’m certain that you all can find something to entertain yourselves until morning.”

The driver smiles down at me. “Aye, Mistress. We’ll do our best.”

“No trouble now,” I admonish him. “I would hate to have to explain to Sergeant Timbler if there was a disturbance of some kind.”

“No worries there, Mistress. We all knows the rules, we do.”

“Off with you then. It was an excellent ride.”

He pats the top of the carriage. “She’s a real beauty. Handles like a dream and fast as the wind she is. Goodnight, Mistress.”

The driver waits until I reach the sidewalk and the door closed then pulls away followed closely by the mounted Guardsmen who salute me as they pass. They are all headed towards the stables which just happen to be across the street from one of several Klatch houses, though they are quality establishments and well policed. I turn to the Mayor’s aid.

“You need not wait for me, Miss Donnavan. I know the way.”

“I’m sure you do, Mistress, and it is Mrs. Baxter now. I was wed four months ago.”

“Indeed! Congratulations! Then I definitely do not wish to detain you. Hurry home to your husband. I am certain you have better things to do than escort an old woman about.”

“Thank you, Mistress. We are trying to follow the Queen’s example.”

“Good for both of you! I’ll be happy to pass the word along to her.”

Mary Baxter gives me a brief bow and hurries back up the steps of the town hall. I look about me and inhale deeply. The smell of horse dung is thick in the air about me, both a familiar and odd smell, familiar in that it has been present all my life and odd because it has all but disappeared from Glory these past three years. I prefer the current smell of Glory.

As I stroll down the wooden sidewalk towards my old home, I can not but help noticing the new shops and businesses that line both sides of the street. Millinery, dry goods, a barber shop and a surprisingly large butcher shop all within a hundred decileages of the town hall. Winstead has grown from a small village to a thriving city in a very short time. I like seeing the progress but I miss the closeness of village life, the friendliness, the helpfulness, that you knew everyone and everything that happened. While there were positive aspects to that life, I do not want to gloss over the negative parts. Abuse, domination by men, lack of freedom, lack of choice, limited futures for the children, particularly the girls. These were all present in the old Winstead and, to a smaller degree, still present in the new Winstead but they are on the way out. Thank Zaphod and Queen Alexia for that.

I search the faces of the passing crowd, looking for old neighbors but have no luck until I reach my neighborhood. Many of the homes have been improved, new paint, new fences, even new additions so that they are larger yet most of them are unchanged. As darkness falls, lights illuminate the insides and I see familiar faces as I look in the front windows as I slowly walk along the path to my home.

Upon reaching my home, I find the door unlocked, which I expected. There is also a hot meal in the oven, a beef stew with blue potatoes. One of my favorites. Thanks to Miss Donnavan … ahhh …. Mrs. Baxter. Removing it from the oven and setting it on the table, I am preparing to serve myself when there is a knock at my door. When I move the curtain aside I am pleased with whom I see.

“Tarryn!” I exclaim as I open the door. “Please. Enter with Zaphod’s blessings!”

She nods her head in acceptance and enters, dressed in stylish skirt, blouse and short coat buttoned up to just a few milileagues below her neck. The blouse appears to be white linen and both the coat and skirt are matching dark wool, the skirt well above her ankles which is the current style in Glory. She holds out her hand for me to shake. I take her by the shoulders.

“Call me old fashioned but I still prefer the old greeting.”

Tarryn smiles indulgently and we touch foreheads, holding in place briefly before I release her.

“As you wish, Mistress Denson …”

I raise my hand, palm forward. “Please, Tarryn. Dierdra. We have known each other far too long.”

She smiles again. “As you wish, Dierdra.”

I step aside from the front door and gesture towards my kitchen.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“No, I have not had time.”

“Then you must share my meal. It smells as if Mary Baxter has done her usual admirable job.”

“That is why I am here. She is an excellent cook. Much better than I.”

We both have a seat and I return to serving the meal.

“You never showed any interest in household duties in your youth, Tarryn.”

“I am not that old even now, Dierdra. Barely older than the Queen, though you would not know it to look at her.”

“Do not compare yourself to Alexia, Tarryn. I gave it up many years ago. She is singular.”

We eat in silence for a few decicycles before I speak. “Winstead has changed since my last visit. It is very impressive but I must say that I miss parts of the old village life.”

“But not all parts of that life, I hope.”

“No, not all parts. I see that you have kept the stocks in the center of town.”

“I have. It is a reminder of our past, my past, a past that is always on the verge of returning if we are not vigilant.”

“Is it like that?”

“The Queen may have appointed me mayor of Winstead but it does not mean Jaylen Burket and his supporters accept it. Even today, four years after my appointment, he still fights me at every turn. If the Queen had not posted a large contingent of the Guard in Winstead, I might have been killed by now.”

“She did more than station the Guard here. She instructed the local Guard Commander to visit with Burket and inform him that the Queen’s blessings were upon you and that she had a very strong interest in your continued good health. He was also told that should anything bad happen to you, there would be an extremely intense investigation personally directed and conducted by the Queen herself.”

“Why was I not told about this before?! I would have been free to ignore the buffoon!”

“You were not told because the Queen did not wish to put too much pressure upon the scales with her thumb. She felt that some adversity was good for you but also wanted to provide some quiet protection.”

“It was certainly quiet. I did not have any idea that the Queen took notice of me or my town. Was this your doing, Dierdra? I know that you are much more than just the Queen’s Healer.”

“I am and did have some say in this but it is more than that. The Queen has had ear tilted your direction for some time. The opening of the new mine by the Consortium in your bailiwick could have caused great trouble but you managed it well, the same with their new farm.”

“Both brought more people to the town, which brought new merchants, new businesses, the need for bigger schools, better roads and other improvements, including more houses. It has been challenging.”

“You could have had another Shellcrest but you did not.”

“The mine here is not like the one at Shellcrest, nor are the workers. These men have families. Their wives help keep matters from getting out of hand.”

“It is true that you have had some advantages but they simply create different challenges.”

“There are other mines, other farms and other towns. You still have not said why the interest in me.”

I am unsure if I should tell her the complete truth. I could still persuade Tarryn to accept the Queen’s offer without doing so but it is best that she know.

“The Queen chose several women to appoint as mayors all over this world. How you all perform reflects on her and will determine if she can move onto further changes. You are one of those women but that is not the only reason. The Queen has great respect for you. She has felt that way since she met you.”

“I have never met the Queen! I am looking forward to her arrival tomorrow.”

“You would likely not remember it but you have met once before. On the day that you were whipped by Burket, the Queen was present. She arrived just as the assault ended. It was she who helped you back to my home.”

Tarryn is shocked. “I … I … had no idea.”

“There is more to the story. She understood what you were trying to show the people so she did not interfere but she respected what you were attempting to do. It is fortunate she arrived when she did. A few decicycles earlier and she might have stopped it in a very forceful way. It could have changed all our futures. As it is, your brave act was the final grain of sand that began the avalanche. It was you who pushed the Queen to choose the road that has brought this world to where it is today. It could be said that you are the mother of our fates.”

She is overwhelmed. “That cannot be true,” she quietly whispers.

“It is. I have been with the Queen ever since that day. She was already upset by what she had seen in her travels around this world but it was your actions that brought it all into focus. After she had returned to the throne, she did not forget what you had done. Your name was at the top of the list when she was looking for women to name as mayors. The Queen wanted to challenge you, to give you a chance to make an even bigger mark on this world.”

“This seems so strange. It was not my intention for any of this to happen.”

“Only Zaphod knows the future, the rest of us struggle in darkness, even the Queen. The smallest act can have the greatest effect on our lives but you will not know it at that time. You did what you thought was right and wanted to inspire others to take action. That is exactly what you did. The fact that the person you inspired was the most powerful witch in the land proves that Zaphod has a sense of humor.”

“Why have you chosen to reveal all this now? You could have done so many months ago.”

“The Queen wanted to be sure that you were strong enough to accept the next challenge.”

“Not Patron!” she gasps.

“No, something different. Have you heard about the Queen’s Council?”

“Yes. Three people from each of the Regions selected by the people of the Region to advise the Queen.”

“Exactly so. The Queen would like you to seek election to the Council.”

“I … I … still have so much to do as mayor of Winstead. I can still make a difference where I am now. Why would I seek membership in a purely advisory group?”

“The reason why is that the Queen does not intend that the Queen’s Council remain a purely advisory group of men and women. She wants the Council to eventually become a separate ruling body, one that will appoint the future First Minister, to eventually run the country with the Queen becoming their advisor.”

“Jillian’s grace! How soon?”

“Not too quickly. The people will need to come to accept the Council members as their chance to have a voice in how the government runs. Once that is done, then they must be willing to accept the gradual transfer of power to the Council. The entire process could take years.”

“Then why must I do so now? I can seek membership once all that has been completed.”

“The Queen needs allies in the Council now to make certain the gradual transformation into the ruling body it needs to be takes place. Even with the Council being run by her supporters, the Queen will have a difficult time completing the changes she desires.”

Tarryn seems reluctant to speak further but she does. “I do not wish to appear ungrateful but I cannot promise to do everything the Queen asks of me simply because she asks. To be absolutely honest with you, Dierdra, she has done some things that I disagree with. I will not be her pet pony.”

“She does not want compliant pets, Tarryn. She wants and needs women and men committed to protecting the freedom of our world’s people from tyranny. It will take years but she wants the people to decide their own future by choosing their leaders or maybe deciding they do not want leaders. They are not ready to make those decisions yet; they are not used to making demands of the Queen. They must be shown the way. They will learn and then decide. In many respects, the rebels were correct. They did not wish to be ruled by a Queen. Alexia agrees with that. Dupree and his rebels wanted the old system of men controlling everything from behind a woman’s skirts. Alexia could not accept that and neither could you. The Queen asks that you join her in finishing the work you both started years ago.”

“You have given me much to consider, Dierdra. I will need time to review it all in my mind and reach a decision.”

“I expected as much. That is your choice. The Queen can wait. Let us speak no more about it tonight and eat before Mrs. Baxter’s work grows cold.”

Tarryn smiles, digging into the food on her plate, bringing a heaping portion to her mouth with a spoon. “Agreed. Tell me the news of Glory. I read the reports that come in over the short wave radio manned by the Guard at their outpost but they are so formal and dry, written as men write. I need the meat and sinew, not just the dry bones.”

“Much has changed physically. Alexia helped create something call an Anaerobic Digester. You feed it horse, cow and other animal’s wastes and it creates a gas which is burned to create light, heat and power. The waste from the hundreds of thousands of animals in and near Glory went from being a smelly, unhealthy nuisance to a resource the collection of which is both a respected and profitable business. The streets of Glory are not completely free of this waste but it does not stay out in public for very long.”

“Amazing!”

“That is not all. What is left in the Digester can be used as a fertilizer to improve the growth of crops. Nothing goes to waste. The streets are clean as are the stables and homes, people have good paying jobs, and we have a new kind of fuel to use. It has been a remarkable change. And, of course, you know about her new roads program.”

“I must admit that I was surprised at how quickly the road improvements were made. I did not know that witches were involved in construction.”

“That is the change. Alexia is seeking out witches across the country and putting them to work, assuming that is what they want to do. Many of them want to continue as Healers, the results of that program you will see tomorrow but others wish to try their hands at other types of labor. The proper use of magic can speed most any task and that appeals to the Queen’s sensibilities. She also has lifted any restrictions on the births of female children so there will be more and stronger witches in the future.”

“Does the Queen not fear the rise of a powerful challenger?”

“Frankly, no. She has a lead on any from this world and, as she has shown, victory does not always belong to the strongest. Another reason is that she is promoting the creation of new products for the people. The restrictions of the past are gone. She does not want to bring the technology of her old world to ours, not unless it is vitally important and as safe as possible.”

“I have seen the Short Wave Radio and Solar Panel used by the Guard to talk with their headquarters in Glory. Astounding!”

“The Queen travels with a smaller one so she can keep in contact with the Palace and the Guard as needed. What she wants is what she calls ‘home grown’ technology. Things created in our world, built in our world to help our people. She knows that as technology advances and spreads, the power of magic may decline but more people benefit in the future. All of these plans are just beginning and success is not guaranteed but we have started down that road. Only Zaphod knows what the future holds and he is not talking.”

“These are certainly exciting times, Dierdra. I am anxious to meet the Queen. Again.”
* * * *** * * * *** * * *

It is four cycles past dawn and practically every citizen of Winstead has either gathered around the town hall or line the main street leading to the town hall. Tarryn and her government stand at the top of the front steps with other local businessmen and leaders standing on the steps below them. Looking around the town from up here in the light of day, I can see the great effort that has been made to spiff up the buildings and the grounds. There is not a sign of dirt or stain where it should not be.

“Everything looks lovely, Mayor Black,” I whisper in Tarryn’s ear.

She chuckles lightly. “It better. We’ve been working at it for over four weeks. This is the most significant event in Winstead’s history.”

“Your appointment as mayor might challenge it,” I reply.

“Thank you, Mistress Denison.”

A young Guardsman runs across the road and up to where we are standing, saluting the mayor first and then myself.

“Report, Trooper.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. The Queen is only fifteen decicycles from the edge of town at last sighting.”

“They have made good time. The wind must be at their backs,” I say.

Tarryn smiles broadly. “Thank you, Trooper. You are dismissed.” The Guardsman turns to leave. “But you may remain here if you have no other duties.”

The young man’s face lights up. “Bless you, Mayor Black! I’m sure to get to see the Queen now.”

“Do not worry, Trooper,” I add. “The Queen always makes time to meet with her Guard as she travels about.”

He bows towards me. “We are all proud to serve someone such as herself, Mistress Denson.” He then stepped aside, taking position to our right but behind Mayor Black’s staff.

It was no time before we heard the sound of approaching horses. Many horses. All eyes turned to look down the road, straining to catch the first glimpse. A young boy was running down the middle of the road, pointing back the way he had come.

“They’re here! They’re here! They’re here!” he shouted repeatedly as he sped up the road towards us.

The mounted Guardsmen came down the road four abreast, the highly polished metal of their tack gleaming in the sun, as did their helmets. This is a working Guard unit but they enjoy putting on a bit of a show whenever they lead the Queen into town. Sergeant Timbler says it helps recruiting if they all look sharp and properly outfitted. He also says that he wished it were not so but I believe that he enjoys it more than he lets on.

The man leading them in is Captain Walker, a particularly handsome fellow. He has a pleasant look about him but not too pleasant. He wishes to maintain a professional appearance at all times, which he manages to do in an admirable fashion.

“Who’s that one?” Tarryn inquires quietly as he rides by.

“Captain Theo Walker. Personally selected by the Queen as Captain of her escort group.”

“I can see why.”

“He is much more than a pretty face. He is quite good at his job, Mayor Black.”

“I would expect nothing less from someone personally chosen by the Queen.”

“Then you and he have that in common, Tarryn. You also are both unwed.”

She shoots me a look mixed with both anger and interest. “I am married to my job, Dierdra.”

“A job cannot give you children. We need children to build our population.”

“Could we talk about this later? You are beginning to sound like my mother.”

“Your mother is a wise woman. Later it shall be.”

The horses continue to parade by. There are over forty in total, a formidable group of highly trained men. A collective gasp escapes the mouths of those around me and it is not due to the troops.

“By Zaphod’s staff!” Tarryn exclaims. “It is huge!”

We have all just seen the reason for this trip. The Queen is delivering the first Mobile Regional Medical Station to this Region. It will be based in Winstead but it will travel a circuit, moving from town to town in an area, providing advanced medical care to all. This is the first to be provided by The Consortium as part of their agreement with the Queen. They are built on the other side and make the jump to this world through The Consortium’s big portal. At almost eighty decileagues in length and fifteen in width, it requires a team of six oxen to pull, though it rolls on a different kind of wheel, one that is partially made of air. The outside is also of a material not found on this world, alum-e-nam, which is very light but strong. The driver is mostly protected from the elements, which will make travel in the winter much easier but there is also a way to make the air colder so summer travel will also be more comfortable. I had worked with this one while we were testing it before bringing it to Winstead. It is not fast but six oxen can move it along nicely even in bad weather.

There are quarters for two Healers built in, along with a kitchen, bath and bathroom but most of the space is dedicated to medical equipment, the kind of medical equipment never seen before on this world.

The wagon comes to a surprisingly quiet stop before those gathered at the town hall and then nothing happens for almost a full decicycle. The Guardsmen dismount and line up in two rows separated by five decileagues. Finally, a large door in the side of the wagon opens with a quiet whoosh of air and a young boy dressed in full Queen’s Guard uniform marches out the door, turns sharply to his left and then continues to march until joining the troops in line. I look over at Tarryn and see the confusion on her face.

“That is the Queen’s eldest son, Dyson Tyber. She was carrying him when the war ended. He was made an honorary Guardsman at birth. They said that he had seen more battles than most Guardsmen in a lifetime before he was even born. He takes his duties very seriously. He is a sort of a mascot for the men who escort the Queen.”

“Is he the child who that group of ex-rebels attempted to kidnap?”

“Yes. There was some laxness in the family’s security and the kidnappers almost succeeded. The child was only one year old and mercifully has no recollection of the event. After that, the Queen requested that Sergeant Timbler take responsibility for the security of the Royal Family. There have been no incidents since that first one. I think Timbler has Second Sight. The man always seems to know what is going to happen before it does. He says that it is just many years of experience but I suspect there is more to it than that. Either way, he rarely leaves the Queen’s side when she is away from the Palace.”

“What did the Queen do to the kidnappers?”

“Very little. She asked her husband to take care of them.”

“That seems rather merciful on her part.”

“It was not. Johnathyn Tyber has an enormous amount of experience in the uses for extremely hot iron and can wield a twenty stone hammer as if it were a feather. The criminals were initially thankful but soon came to wish that the Queen had taken responsibility. They lived several days after being captured. Johnathyn took his time.”

The next ones to exit the wagon are Leeanna and a young child. She is holding his hand as he unsteadily walks down the ramp from the door to the ground but he is straining against her grip as soon as he reaches flat ground.

“What a lovely young woman!” Tarryn exclaims. She is correct. Leeanna has grown into a very lovely and responsible young woman.

“That is the Queen’s daughter, Leeanna Tyber. Fifteen years of age. She is a wonderful sister to the boys. Also the eyes and ears of the Queen. Very smart and extremely aware. She can put most anyone at ease, something the Queen has difficulty with. The girl is an asset.”

“So, that child is …”

“The Queen’s youngest son, Dylan Tyber. Named for Johnathyn’s father. He is two and a half years old.”

“Does he also wish to join the Queen’s Guard?”

“Not yet. He shows a desire to use one thing to strike another, more like his father than his brother. He is a whirling windstorm of destruction right now, a real handful for both the Queen and Leeanna.”

“Does the Queen not use a Dula to care for the child?”

“Only if she must be gone for several days and needs Leeanna to accompany her. Johnathyn also does much more for the child than you would expect a man to do. Alexia believes that a child is the family’s responsibility. Leeanna is less enthusiastic about that idea. She has offered to pay for a Dula herself. There is no lack of women offering their services to care for both boys. It would be a prestigious situation. The Queen may reconsider her stand on Dulas in another few months.”

Sergeant Timbler steps out of the wagon’s door, pausing at the bottom of the ramp. The other Guards had been at attention but they all stiffen slightly more as he looks about for several milicycles before stepping aside and bowing his head towards the door.

Johnathyn walks forward, the Queen right next to him, hand in hand, both dressed formally but simply. He is wearing dark blue pants and a dark blue coat cut broad in the shoulders and back but narrowing to his still trim waist. A white shirt and dress black boots leaves him looking serious but sensible. Alexia is also dressed in blue but her dress is more a sky blue with a modest neck, three quarter sleeves with just a touch of a poof at the shoulders, her gold colored flat soled shoes peeking out from below the long hem. The dress is loose and flowing but does not hide her clearly enlarged midriff. Her hair is in braids wrapped around her head with a crown pinned to the top.

Both of them smile broadly as the people begin to applaud. Johnathyn leans down as Alexia whispers something in his ear. He nods his head towards Sergeant Timbler, who frowns but follows the couple as they stroll away from the wagon towards the crowd lining the road. Timbler signals with a waive of his right hand and six Guardsmen, including Dyson, hurry to flank the couple on both sides as they reach the crowd and begin to shake hands, speak with and, occasionally, touch foreheads with the men, women and children who have been waiting for several cycles to greet them. I turn to Tarryn.

“Madam Mayor, they will be at this for at least twenty decicycles, longer if the Queen encounters a woman with child. Would you care to take a tour of the Mobile Regional Medical Station?”

She glances towards the royal couple. They are making very slow progress along the road. “Might as well,” she replies with a shrug. “You did warn me about this.”

“They both like to meet the people as often as they can. It is something the person will remember and talk about the rest of their life. It does not hurt their popularity either. Shall we?”

We step behind the group of dignitaries waiting at the top of the steps of the town hall and slip away to the new medical wagon. Tarryn is suitably impressed at the gleaming white metal interior, tables, chairs and counters with numerous drawers and cabinets.

“I have never seen anything like it!”

“It is most striking but very useful. With all the devices contained in this wagon, a pair of trained Healers should be able to treat most any injury or illness they encounter. There are supplies here that allow the repair of cloudy eye lenses, bad heart valves, collapsed arteries and many other things that people have been dying from for years.”

“I do not understand about those medical things. I leave it to the Healers.”

“To be truthful, I do not understand it all myself. The Queen sent our young Healers to the other side to be taught how to cure our people. It has taken four years to get them all ready to be stationed around the world. They have been working in Glory the last few months to make certain they know what they are doing. The people of Glory have never been healthier. Young children do not die from consumption, mothers do not die in childbirth, old people are more active than ever before. It is a Golden Age. We are now ready to send our fledglings from the nest.”

“How do all these devices work?”

“I am embarrassed to admit that I can not answer that, though the two Healers assigned to this wagon can. I do know that the top of the wagon is covered with something called Solar Cells that take the light of the sun and store it so it can power the devices.”

“What if there is no sun?”

“The wagon can store a great deal of sun power but if that should run out, there is something called a Sterling Cycle Generator that will replace the sun power. Amazingly, it burns Klatch to make power.”

“As good a use for Klatch as any.”

“That is exactly what the Queen said though her husband thought it was a waste. Most anything that will burn can drive the Generator but it was specifically built to use Klatch as that is readily available.”

“Sometimes too readily.”

“One problem at a time, Tarryn,” I sigh.

“Agreed. When is the Queen’s child due?”

“In five weeks, though both of her boys were born early. That is one of the reasons I am here. Johnathyn insisted. Naturally, the Queen was not concerned. She is the worst patient I have ever treated. The worst.”

“Has a Queen ever had children? I have asked all the scholars I know and none knew of any that did.”

“As have I, with the same answer.”

“Three boys of those ages will be difficult to handle.”

I should likely remain silent but she will know the truth soon enough. Everyone will know soon enough.

“Not three sons, Tarryn. Two sons … and a daughter.”

“Leeanna is hardly a child, Dierdra.”

“You misunderstand. The Queen’s unborn child is a girl.”

Tarryn is so taken aback that she collapses into a chair. “Is she MAD!”

“I have thought so many times.”

“Why would she willingly give birth to a challenger to her crown?”

“She does not consider the child to be a challenger but a possible eventual successor. If not this girl then one of her sisters.”

“Sisters?!”

“Eventually. The Queen plans on having a large family and more girls are inevitable.”

Tarryn is stunned. “Does she know what this means? Does anyone know what this means?”

“No one really knows. It is unprecedented. The Queen wishes to establish a dynasty. She realizes that there is a certain risk. She does not wish to live for over two hundred years as did Opulessa yet she desires that the witch who comes after her will continue to support her plans for this world. The solution to her problem, as she sees it, is female children.”

“Who would be the first, second or third daughters of a seventh daughter of a seventh daughter.”

“Or fourth or fifth.”

“Jillian’s grace on us all! Does First Minister Rholls know of her plans?”

“Bickle Rholls is aware. The Queen told him. He has concerns but there is nothing he can do about it. As usual, we are all at Alexia’s mercy but she cares more for this world and its people than anyone I know. If she can teach that to her daughters, it will be a bright future for us all and our descendants.”

“If she can teach them to feel as she does. Should she fail, it could be civil war among her children who would be more powerful than Alexia.”

“As you say. Thankfully, I should be long dead by then.”

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

It has been a long day and spending time on my swollen feet and ankles is never fun. Everything was a new experience when I was pregnant with Dyson, experiences I never thought I would have. It was pretty much the same with Dylan. The same morning sickness, the same odd cravings, the same weight gain and pressure on my bladder, like putting checkmarks on a list.

Jackie has been different. No morning sickness, fewer aches and pains, fewer complaints. Johnathyn has certainly noticed that. It was as if my body was fighting against the boys but accepting a girl. Not actual fighting mind you, just in relative terms. There are still the swollen feet and ankles, which Johnathyn is currently massaging as I lay back on the bed in the hotel room Mayor Black booked for us. I’m wearing one of the black silk peignoir sets that he and Leeanna brought back from Victoria’s Secret over five years ago. It’s a favorite of his and perfect for covering my pregnant belly.

“How are you feeling now?” he asks.

“Better. You always have the magic touch, Johnathyn.”

He continues to work on my left ankle. “I do what I can, Alexia.”

“Where are the boys?”

“With Dierdra and Leeanna. Was Dierdra able to persuade Mayor Black to join your Council?”

“Not yet but Tarryn is considering it. It is a sacrifice on her part and a leap of faith at the same time. I think she’ll eventually see it my way but I’d like to find a good replacement for her as mayor before that time comes.”

“She is a considerate woman. Mayor Black has a special reception for Leeanna later this evening with young men and women closer to her age.”

“You mean a meat market.”

“Do not be that way, Alexia. Leeanna needs to mix with people her own age now and then.”

“I know that but every rich man with a son is trying to align themselves with us by
having the son court Leeanna.”

“With little success so far. She is a smart girl and we have raised her well. She knows when someone is lying to her.”

“They aren’t always lies. Leeanna would be a good catch for any boy. She knows it and they know it. The boy could simply be being manipulated by his family. It’s happened before.”

“I have seen how some of the younger Guardsman regard her when they think I am not looking. They are attracted to her.”

“They’d be crazy not to. They’d also be crazy to do something about it. Timbler’d have their nuts in a vice in milicycles. Though, to be truthful, I wouldn’t have any problem with a Guardsman as long as they are truly happy.”

“Would you feel the same about Jacquelyn?”

“It’s Jackie.”

“We agreed to Jacquelyn, Alexia. It was your mother’s name. Jacquelyn is a beautiful name. I have never met a Jacquelyn in all my life. Our daughter will have a unique and beautiful name. Have you told her yet?”

“Yes. She likes it.”

“How could she not? You have not answered my question. Would it be acceptable for the Queen’s second daughter to be wed to a humble Guardsman?”

I lean forward and take Johnathyn’s hand in mine. “If she would be as happy as I am married to a talented blacksmith, how could I deny her?”

“As long as we will not be selling the affections of our children for political gain, I am content.”

“Johnathyn, that will never happen. We will all make sacrifices because we are now the Royal Family. We owe this world the best we can give it. You and I chose this life. The children have not but they’re all stuck with it. It’s up to us to get them to embrace this life and grow up to be good caretakers of the people. One sacrifice they will never have to make is their love lives. I wouldn’t so they won’t. Now, you need to get some sleep. We’ll need to leave early tomorrow and you won’t be able to keep your hands off the reins of that fast carriage.”

He brings my hand to his lips and gently kisses it. “You know me too well, Alexia. Will you be coming to bed also?”

“I want to check in on Jackie first.”

“Jacquelyn, my wife.”

“Fine. We’ll see what she prefers when she gets here.”

“As you wish. I will be back soon.”

Johnathyn walks to the private bathroom to change his clothes as I snuggle into the bed while still sitting up, my back resting against some pillows. It only takes a few milicycles of concentration and I’m already looking inside my body, focusing on my distended womb and then I am inside it, watching my daughter. It’s easy for me for two reasons. The first is that I’ve been getting a lot of practice doing this because I can’t resist it. When I was pregnant with Dyson and Dylan, it was a nightly ritual. With Jackie … I mean Jacquelyn, it’s been nightly and just about any time I can squeeze five or ten decicycles out of my busy schedule. The second reason is one that I have kept secret from everyone, even Dierdra.

I am more powerful when I’m pregnant with a girl.

There was a bit of an increase in my powers in the later stages of both pregnancies with Dylan and Dyson. I almost lost control during those early contractions when Dyson was born, nearly blowing a wall out of the birthing room. I was able to pull it back just in time. Ever since then, I’ve been extra careful. This time, I’ve just been basking in the power almost from day one. It may or may not disappear once she’s born, we’ll just have to see. You can be damn sure that I’m going to breast feed as long as polite society permits because I’m certain that my hormone levels have something to do with the power levels. Again, we’ll just have to see. No Seventy Seven witch has ever been pregnant before, certainly not with a girl.

Right now, it’s just the two of us. I know that she knows I’m here. I can feel her moods but not read her thoughts. I still talk to her though.

“Hello, Jackie. It’s Mommy. I know you heard Daddy and I talking a few decicycles ago. Don’t worry about anything, everything is fine. Life is much more complex on the outside than it is on the inside. Inside, it’s just eat, sleep and grow while listening to the world about you. Outside, you’ve got work and responsibilities. That can be fun sometimes, certainly it can be rewarding but also frustrating. It’s all a part of growing up.”

I swing around to get a better look at her face.

“Most everyone will love you but some will fear you. We’ll need to show the people as early as we can that you’re just a regular little girl. Beautiful but normal. We can’t let those powers out right away. You will learn how to control them. I’ll help and so will the rest of the Coven. You’ll have a pot load of Aunts just chomping at the bit to put you through your paces. Once you’re a big girl, you’ll be able to do so many things, help so many people without the deaths of thousands on your hands. They won’t look at you the way they do me. It will be different for you and your sisters. A whole new wonderful world just waiting for you to show what a good, smart, caring person you are. You are a Tyber. Never forget that. A Tyber always does what is right even if it is hard or unpopular. Be certain you are right and then do it. If your Daddy and I teach you nothing else it is do what is right for everyone. Not just for you but for everyone. You may not understand that now but you will. A good heart and a strong will can show you the way. Good night my precious baby girl. Daddy and I will see you soon enough.”

I pull back as Johnathyn returns to our room, dressed in nothing but his shorts, still as strong, handsome and fit as the day I met him. He quickly crawls into bed, pulling me next to him and covering us both with the sheets.

“How is our daughter?” he asks as he slowly caresses my rounded stomach.

“She’s fine,’ I answer. “She can’t wait to meet you and the family.”

“We will all be happy to finally greet her. She is a Tyber by name and by blood. A Tyber does what needs to be done.”

I lay my hand on top of his as it rests on my stomach.

“She knows, Johnathyn. She knows.”