by N. C. Reed
Tenderly she finished undressing him until he was standing before her in briefs.
“Parno, you need to get undressed and sit down in the water,” she ordered. “You're too old for even your mother to undress you like this.” A ghost of a smile came to his lips at that.
“Then turn your head, mother,” he told her. She did, and seconds later heard the water splash as he got into the tub. She gathered a wash rag and soap and began to help him clean up.
“I am so sorry, sweet child,” she whispered. “I cannot tell you how sorry.”
“She jumped in front of me,” he told her, though his voice no longer sounded like he was in shock. “She took that knife for me. If it had hit me, I'd be dead.”
“I know,” Edema whispered, her eyes closing for a moment at the horror of seeing him dead in such a manner. In any manner. “I will never be able to repay her,” she added a moment later.
“For what?” Parno asked her.
“For being so good to my son,” Edema kissed his forehead. “For loving my precious, precious boy. For saving him for me.” She felt tears flowing down her cheeks but didn't bother with them as she hugged him close. Anyone not knowing of their relationship might have thought it improper, but those around Parno knew how close the two were, and that he treated Edema Willows like his mother.
“Finish while I check on your clothing,” she got to her feet.
“I got your clothes wet,” Parno told her.
“I don't care,” she assured him. “I have others and these will dry. Now finish up.”
“Yes mother,” he smiled slightly.
Edema walked around the screen to see Cho Feng standing there still. She walked toward him with purpose and Tinker was sure she was going to strike the man, but instead she hugged him.
“Thank you,” she whispered. She didn't have to say what for. She embraced him for only a second before moving on to retrieve the fresh uniform for Parno that Karls had laid out. Cho looked at Tinker for a moment before speaking.
“We must talk someday, good Tinker,” he said simply.
“Perhaps we will, Warmaster,” was the equally simple reply. And then both had other things to concern them.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
-
“No, no, don't pull,” Stephanie said, her voice insistent. “We have to cut around each of these damnable spikes or else make sure they aren't hanging on anything. Sponge, please,” she told the man next to her and he wiped her forehead gently with a small sponge cloth.
“Can you sew?” Stephanie asked the surgeon.
“Yes, milady,” the young man assured her. “I attended the Royal Dispensary College in Birmingham.” He used the old name for the city, she noted idly.
“Excellent,” Stephanie was pleased to hear that. This man had received an excellent education in the medical arts. “I have seen no signs of arterial damage. Do you concur?”
“I do,” he nodded. “I have seen one small vein that was opened in his right lung, likely the source of his oral bleeding. We are cleaning the blood up now and I'm prepared to sew the vein closed.”
“Then do so at once,” she nodded. “You,” she looked at a nearby soldier. “Go to the main hospital and find Doctor Bartram. Tell him we need another physician here at once. Someone with surgical skills. And at least two more nurses trained in surgical methods.”
“Yes milady!” the man ran to obey.
“Please keep the blood wiped away as best you can,” she told the nurse that was trying to do just that. “I'm about to cut around one side of these spikes, so the blood flow may increase. There is a vein close by and it's entirely possible that I will nick it so be prepared.” The nurse nodded and reached to place more sponge cloth within easy reach.
“Here we go,” Stephanie whispered.
-
Parno dressed mechanically and then stepped out from behind the screen. He had bathed and washed himself of Jaelle's blood and then took a minute to see to his grooming. Behind the screen he had some protection and could allow his emotions to show, but now he left that protection behind, his face a carefully schooled mask.
Jaelle's body was gone, as were the bed clothes that had once covered his bed. Tinker and the women who had accompanied him had taken her away to do whatever it was their people did when... when they died.
“Better,” he heard a voice say and turned to see Cho Feng examining him.
“Thank you,” Parno nodded. Cho returned it, knowing that Parno was thanking him for more than a simple compliment. “What's happening?” he asked.
“The Army is on full alert, and there was activity among the enemy about half of an hour after the attack on you. There's no doubt this was Imperial in nature. Miss Stephanie is currently using your command tent to operate on Harrel, and Brigadier Willard has moved your own command functions to an adjacent, smaller tent.”
“What's the news about Harrel?” Parno asked softly.
“His prognosis is not good,” Cho admitted. “The knife wound is severe in nature. A horrid weapon, designed only to kill with as much damage as possible. A truly barbaric instrument.”
“Stephanie hasn't said anything about him?”
“She has sent for an additional doctor skilled in cutting, as one put it,” Cho replied. “It doesn't sound as if it's going well, but then I am not a medical professional.”
“He fought all three of those assassins,” Parno said as he buttoned the sleeves on his shirt. “He killed the last one with that knife already in his back. Pulled him off of me just as he was about to finish me off.”
“He is an apt pupil and a formidable opponent,” Cho nodded firmly.
“You taught him all that?”
“I did,” Cho replied. “The Colonel and I thought he would make an excellent bodyguard in addition to being a good secretary.”
“It put him in harm’s way,” Parno noted.
“He wanted to be a soldier,” Cho said flatly. “Being a soldier puts one in harm’s way. And he accepted the job readily and without hesitation. A good man.”
“Yes, he is,” Parno nodded. “What do I need to do, Cho?” he asked.
“Be seen,” was the immediate response. “Let word spread by word of mouth that you have been seen and are none the worse for wear. That will be enough unless the enemy chooses to attack. So long as they do not, there will be time enough later for more.”
“Alright.”
-
“Sir, they aren't backing down but there's no sign that they intend to attack, either,” Sterling reported.
“Very well,” Wilson nodded after a moment's thought. “Allow the Army to stand down but keep our scouts on the job. Did the 33rd get off on time?”
“Yes sir, they left this morning before all the activity. Well on their way by now. And without the extra baggage the 16th had to carry.”
“Good. Very well. We shall have officer's call in the morning as usual. Until then let things progress as usual.”
“Very good sir.”
-
Stephanie almost staggered out of the tent she had been using as an operating room and Parno, of all people, was there to catch her.
“Easy,” he said softly. “Sit down,” he guided her to a chair. “Rest.”
She was exhausted, but it gave her a shot of adrenaline to be in such close proximity to him once more. She allowed him to guide her and sat down gratefully. Parno noticed the blade in her hand and carefully took it.
“That thing is evil,” she said flatly and Parno nodded silently. “There is no corner of hell hot enough for the man who invented it.”
“Allow me,” Cho Feng said. Parno passed it to him wordlessly, wondering why Cho wanted it, but he had other, more important things on his mind.
“Stephanie, how is he?” he asked.
“He is alive, but I don't know how,” she replied. “He has lost a great deal of blood and there was significant damage but remarkably the bloody thing missed his vitals other than a minor cut t
o one lung and slight damage to his gall bladder. I had to cut a great deal on him to get that thing out, Parno,” she looked up at him. “If he lives, I doubt he will ever be able to serve again.”
“I'm sorry to hear that,” Parno murmured. “But right now, I'm just praying that he lives.”
“Prayer may be all that saves him at this point,” she admitted. “I've done all I can for him,” she told them both. “It will be several days before we know for sure if he will even live.” She looked at Parno then.
“Are you sure you're alright?” she asked softly.
“I'm fine,” he nodded slowly. “Jaelle jumped in front of me and took the blade meant for me. Harrel took the assassins down by himself.”
Stephanie didn't know what to say to that.
“You should go and rest,” he saved her the trouble. “Edema was putting your quarters in order last I heard. You should be able to get at least some rest.”
“I need someone with him at all times,” she said, standing. “And I need to be called the very second he shows any sign of difficulty.”
“I promise we shall see to it, milady,” the young surgeon promised as he stepped outside. “I shall arrange assistance from the primary hospital as needed.”
“Very well then,” she nodded. “I am tired,” she admitted.
“Let me walk you to you tent,” Parno offered.
“No, that's alright,” she said, though she really wanted to accept. “I'm sure you have work to do. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Very well,” he nodded. After she was gone, Parno looked at Cho.
“What do you need that damn thing for?”
“A message.”
-
General Davies stood looking at the map, weighing his options. He wanted to strike back at the Nor for the attack on his Marshal, but he had to be limited in what he did. Also, he had to think about over extending his authority.
There was an Imperial Infantry division on the move west, and another had established a camp in a small town called Unity in the last day. He was sure this was just an exercise, but with the attack on the Marshal-
“General,” a cultured voice said behind him and Davies turned to see Cho Feng looking at him.
“We should talk.”
-
“I want a man on the fastest horse to carry this, understand?” Davies was saying thirty minutes later. “Make sure it gets there as soon as humanly possible, if not a bit faster.”
“Got it, sir,” his aide nodded and set off at a run. Davies turned back to look again at the map, thinking about what he needed to do now.
“I need to see General Graham,” he said aloud, turning to find another aide. “Find General Graham and ask that he come see me.”
-
“So, it's true then?” Simmons asked. Karls nodded.
“I'm afraid so. Harrel is fighting for his life, but he took all of them down with him. Killed two and damn near ripped the third's throat out.”
“Who would have thought he had that in him?” Simmons said approvingly. “So, what are we going to do?”
“I don't see how we can do anything without the Marshal's orders,” Bret Chad said. Since his arrival, the Regiment had been reorganized into three battalions that each numbered just under five hundred men. Simmons commanded the 1st, Seymour the 2nd, and Tom Hildebrand now commanded the 3rd. This put Chad second in overall command behind Karls Willard.
“Bret's right,” Karls nodded. “We keep working, training 1st Corps and doing whatever jobs the Marshal needs us for. In the meantime, we're doubling the size of the escort around Parno starting now.”
“Berry still in command?” Simmons asked.
“This wasn't his fault,” Karls nodded. “Security kept being pushed back for one reason or another when it should have been left as is. That's not going to happen again. We're going to increase his escort to sixty, and they will provide all security for his quarters, command tent, and when he's moving. Period.” He paused as he looked at each man.
“We're not going to let this happen ever again.”
-
Rosala sat at a small table in the rear lounge of the Hogshead Inn, head bowed slightly.
“She should not have been with him,” her voice was soft. “He did not deserve her.”
“He said the same and tried to make her come back,” Tinker replied, running a narrow dagger down a whetstone. “He tried as late as this morning to get her to return here, and she would not do it. She told him that was where she was supposed to be. Where she must be.”
Rosala's head shot up at that.
“She had-”
“Yes,” Tinker nodded darkly. “It was her choice. It always was.”
“I must go,” Rosala got to her feet suddenly. “I have things to see to.”
“Rosa, it is as it must be,” Tinker said just before she left the room. “As it always is.”
“And that is why you are sharpening that... thing?” she demanded without turning.
“It has gone dull,” he said simply.
She snorted at the lie. The knives he carried had never known dullness.
“You have your ways and I have mine,” she settled for saying before disappearing up the stairs.
“Good Tinker, have I come at a bad time?” Cho Feng's voice was little more than a whisper.
“Now is as good a time as any,” Tinker shrugged without turning. He did not express surprise at Cho's presence or appearance.
“I wonder, good Tinker, if you are busy this evening?”
“As a matter of fact, I will be,” Tinker nodded, still working on his blade.
“I suspected as much,” Cho nodded. “Could I interest you in a proposition, then?”
“I am listening.”
-
Aaron Bell was sitting on the front porch of the Hogshead Inn when Briel came outside. Normally shy around him, this time she made no such pretense, coming to sit at his side.
“I will miss her,” she said softly, leaning into him. “She was a bright spirit in a dark forest.”
“I've never heard that,” Bell admitted, placing his arm around her shoulders. “The bright spirit thing, I mean,” he added after a few seconds.
“It is just a saying,” she shrugged a little. “I heard that she saved the Prince.”
“Heard the same thing,” Aaron nodded. “If I know him, he'll be looking for blood, too.”
“You think so?” she raised her head, looking at him. “For someone like us?”
“Someone like you?” Aaron's brow creased slightly. “What does that mean?”
“You know what I mean,” she refused to say more.
“Listen,” Aaron removed his arm from about her and leaned forward, straightening slightly. “The Prince doesn't care a single whit of nothing about where you came from or what you look like or nothing else. He don't get hung up on that kind of sh-, crap, and probably ain't never. She was close to him, and she took a knife meant for him. Saved his life.” He leaned back again, face tense.
“You can bet he'll want some payback, and so will-” he broke off, about to say 'so will we', but Briel wasn't privy to the fact that Bell was a member of the Black Sheep. While he trusted her, the fewer who knew it the better. Even her.
“Anyway, don't judge him by nobody's standards cause he's got his own.”
She settled into his side again, saying nothing. They enjoyed the quiet for a little while.
-
Doak Parsons was angry, but there wasn't much he could do about it at the moment. Parno McLeod had taken Parsons and his men in and made them his own, giving them a place to call home when they were hunted from one end of the Kingdom to the other. To say that Parsons felt indebted to the younger man was to understate the facts by a considerable margin.
Now that same man had been attacked in the most cowardly way possible and that same attack had killed a brave young woman and might yet kill an equally brave young man. Parsons had interacted with Harrel S
prigs on many an occasion and liked the quiet young secretary. And word was spreading now that the 'secretary' had taken out three Imperial assassins alone, at least one of them while a knife was buried in his back.
That just made him more angry.
“Boss, what you thinking 'bout?” James asked, seeing a look he knew all too well on the face of his 'boss'.
“I'm thinking I want to get some payback, that's what I'm thinking,” Parsons didn't mince words. “I want to kill somebody over what happened today, and I don't mean just some random Imp, either.”
“I'm very glad to hear you say that, Mister Parsons,” both men jumped as Cho Feng walked up on them. “I was wondering if you and a few of your associates were free this evening?”
-
“Where is everybody?” Parno asked Enri Willard.
“Here and there, scattered around,” Enri replied. “Karls is with the rest over at 1st Corps, I think. I haven't seen Cho since earlier when he was with you so I assume he went back as well. Lady Edema wanted to stay with Lady Stephanie in case she needed anything, but we have a strong guard on their tent. Davies returned to his headquarters to check on the state of the alert and begin standing down once we figured the Nor weren't going to use this as a cover to an attack.”
“Sounds like everyone has something to do but me,” Parno mused.
“You could rest, sir, begging your pardon,” Enri suggested.
“No, I couldn't,” Parno shook his head, looking to the tent where even now Harrel Sprigs was fighting to live.
“Have they said anything?” he asked.
“No sir,” Enri shook his head. “I'm told it may be several days before they will know anything definitive. Assuming he can pull through anyway.”
“What did I do to deserve that kind of loyalty?” Parno asked suddenly, catching the older man by surprise. “What did I do that made Harrel fight so hard to protect me? That made J... her, jump in front of a blade for me? How do I rate that, Enri? Can you tell me?”
The elder Willard paused for a moment, considering the question.