“On that we agree.” Adele smiled.
“We grieve our losses, but the tally of the battle is most favorable, isn't that so, General?”
Ngongo replied, “My men are scouring the area for stragglers, making sure they cannot escape back to their holes. We think very few of the creatures escaped.”
Adele nodded with grim lips pressed together.
There was a commotion outside the tent. A group of Katangans paraded past, hefting a burned and blackened head on a spear. Shouts of “Jaga” reverberated and swept across the plateau until it thundered with echoes. As the gruesome group danced past, more and more Katangans joined in the air of jubilation.
Adele scowled. “That's not Jaga.”
“Shhh.” Msiri shrugged. “It could be.”
“No, it can't. Greyfriar told me that he killed Jaga and the body is over the edge of the cliff.”
The king brushed his fingers across his chin. “That is most inconvenient. You and I may know it is not Jaga, but you and I do not need a trophy to know we have won. As royalty, we are much wiser. However, those who serve us do need symbols. After all, that is what we are to them. Someday perhaps our enemy may well march our heads through their fields. As always, a symbol.”
Adele couldn't think of a response.
Msiri placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Your Greyfriar won the final kill. I am most jealous, but I am also impressed. He is a fine soldier and quite the hunter. He got very far all alone in a land he knows nothing about.”
“He's been fighting vampires a very long time.”
“Hmm, perhaps next time I will listen to him.”
At that Adele smiled. “If I may, how soon before we return to Bunia?”
“I was going to wait until my engineers had constructed a new bridge, a week perhaps. But I see you are distressed and anxious to go. So we shall. Tomorrow. There, it is done. There are already traverse lines across the chasm. We can even rig a basket to carry Greyfriar across.”
He'll love that, thought Adele. She thanked the king for his consideration and left the men to their planning, eager to return to Gareth's side. Anhalt fell into step beside her.
The triumphant group went past again. The crowd had grown larger and louder, singing in Swahili.
“Fire brought from the Earth by the hands of the Empress.”
“Evil is vanquished and our families are safe.”
The head of the new Jaga seemed to stare at her from its rude scepter. Adele looked away. “It's horrible, isn't it?”
“The song? They could use a catchier tune,” said Anhalt, but his attempt at levity failed. The corners of his mouth fell. “It is the face of war, Your Highness. One we must get used to.”
“I'll be happy to leave this dreadful place.” Adele was weary to the bone suddenly. “Let me know when we are ready to depart.”
Anhalt said awkwardly, “Shall I have a man sit with you and Greyfriar in your tent?”
“Oh, Colonel.” Adele took his arm as she laughed at his endearingly uncomfortable attempt to remind her of her place as a lady. “We are far from society. And I am far from caring about propriety. But thank you for attending to my long-worn reputation.”
Anhalt nodded without evident emotion. Adele felt the comfort of him watching as she entered her tent. Gareth was still sleeping. She lay beside him, careful not to jostle him, but laid her hand on his chest, taking joy at its gentle rise and fall, and finally closed her eyes with relief.
The march down the Mountains of the Moon was quicker than the excruciating slog up. Even days spent marching in the knee-deep mud couldn't dampen the jubilation and high spirits that sustained the weary soldiers.
Greyfriar had refused to be one of the invalids carried on a litter, so he marched with the men. Adele caught him as he stumbled and steadied him yet again, saying nothing. He glanced at her, expecting a comment, but there wasn't even an arched eyebrow. That made him uneasy, so he scowled at her
“What?” she said. “You're a grown-up.”
“That's not what you thought when you forced me to be lifted over the ravine like a baby in a crib. It would have been far easier for me to disappear and fly over. I would have met up with you later.” His voice was soft and reserved as usual, but there was a hoarseness to it that gave away his fatigue.
“Oh, and I would have loved to hear how you explained your remarkable recovery only a day after we found you with such gruesome wounds!”
“I'm an enigma. Legends do those sorts of things.”
Adele snorted very inelegantly. “Stop reading that ridiculous book about you, please. We're lucky no one's questioning why you're even walking on your own two feet now.”
“I refuse to let humans carry me around.”
Adele gave a mock gasp. “I'm offended.” He turned to reassure her, but she lifted a hand, chuckling. “Trust me. I know how you feel. I don't blame you for refusing.” Various parts of her body still ached—she doubted solely from the battle. She'd tried to dress her hair in a manner befitting a member of royalty, but numerous indignant tendrils strayed out of their bindings, giving her a tangled halo of sorts. She longed for a hot bath and a soft bed.
After days of marching, the meandering column finally came to the first town nestled at the base of the mountains. It was small and had often been raided by Jaga. Runners had preceded the column to spread the good news and prepare accommodations for the king and his men. Bonfires now burned, and colorful banners streamed over streets. Triumphal chanting could be heard on the breeze. People thronged around the army, throwing flowers and shoving food into their hands. Gareth tried to pass his hunk of cheese to Adele.
She said, “Best hold it or they'll give you another one.”
He regarded the joyful humans. “I like the way you celebrate. It's so sedate.”
She couldn't tell if he was serious or not, but then she decided the former, knowing firsthand how perverse vampires were when victorious. “The battle we won means safety for these people. No more lost loved ones,” she said, entwining her fingers in his.
King Msiri waved them forward, and together they went into a large building, leaving the shouting and singing behind. Town officials appeared to congratulate Msiri and offer everything they had in homage to their king and protector.
A weary Greyfriar found an empty chair off to the side and eased himself down into it. Adele stayed beside him, uninterested in any bestowed honors.
It wasn't until one of the officials handed the king a sheet of paper and pointed at her that she tensed. Msiri read the page, then glanced sharply her way, his smile gone. Adele straightened and watched the proceedings more carefully.
“What's wrong?” asked Greyfriar, sensing her sudden apprehension.
“I'm not sure. Something's happening, though.”
Msiri approached with a somber face. “Princess, I have news. Grievous news, I fear.”
“What is it?” she asked quickly.
“I mourn to tell you Emperor Constantine is no more. Dead several weeks now, it seems—just around the time we moved into the Rwenzoris.”
Adele stared into the face of the king. She considered his words again, wondering if there was some way she had misunderstood. Surely he hadn't said what she thought.
Msiri asked, “Did you hear me, Highness?”
Obviously, she'd understood correctly. Her chest filled with ice. She felt a hand on her arm, saw Greyfriar's glove, and she seized his forearm like a vise, as if it alone would keep her on her feet. She focused on calming her breath and was mindful to maintain a calm appearance. There were so many watching her for the signs of strength that befit royalty.
“Yes, Majesty,” Adele said with admirable clarity. “Do you know how my father died?”
“Vampires.”
A startled murmur circulated through the room as people covered their mouths in surprise or looked to their neighbor for proof of their own shock. Colonel Anhalt stepped forward to be near his astonished prince
ss.
“My brother, Simon?” Her chest seized tighter.
“He is well. Don't fear.”
“Good, good.” She exhaled with faint relief. Then Adele responded with quiet confusion. “Vampires? That's impossible. How? Where was my father?”
King Msiri consulted the sheet of paper he had been given. “In the palace in Alexandria. The city was attacked by a pack of unknown origin. Apparently your people were taken completely unaware. The creatures were driven away, but not before wreaking considerable havoc and causing sizable casualties, including, I'm afraid, your father and several of his leading officials. We know little more than that, but be assured, Your Highness, your prime minister survived the assault and is still the head of government. My ambassador in Alexandria assures us that order has been restored in the city. The Empire appears to be intact.” He paused and added in a low voice, “Your brother, the prince, has been declared heir.”
Adele looked at Greyfriar, pressed against her shoulder, but he seemed equally confounded. “I must go back now. Simon isn't prepared. This burden will crush him.”
“As you will,” the swordsman said without hesitation.
Colonel Anhalt added, “I will send to Captain Hariri to have Edinburgh prepared.”
King Msiri rattled the sheet of paper and cleared his throat. “I haven't yet completed my news for you.”
Against her will, Adele's shoulders slumped with exhaustion. “Dear God, what more?”
“Your husband.”
The princess's face turned to granite. “I have no husband.”
“Well, Senator Clark seems to think otherwise. His ship entered Katangan airspace a few days ago searching for you. My troops have been holding him in seclusion until I could be notified.”
“He's come on a fool's errand.”
“I'm sure of that.” A reassuring smile returned to Msiri's face. “I offered you sanctuary, and you held up your end of the bargain brilliantly. What happens now is up to you. Say the word and I shall send him away. At the very least, I can restrain him while you mourn your father.”
“No, there's no time for that now.” Adele pondered her choices while Anhalt and Msiri exchanged glances of surprise. Perhaps it was what had happened on the mountain, almost losing Gareth, but Adele was undaunted. “Let the senator come to me when we reach Bunia.”
Greyfriar started. “Are you sure?”
“I'm not afraid of him.”
“No, I shouldn't think you would be.” Msiri laughed in complicity and clapped his hands together. He murmured to himself, “This will be an auspicious reunion. There may have to be cake.”
BUNIA WAS STILL celebrating weeks after the extraordinary victory in the Mountains of the Moon. The people chanted their king's name as well as Adele's long into every night. Their joy was infectious, but Adele shared none of it. Her mind was crowded with thoughts of Equatoria, her future, and her concern for Gareth, who was recovering slowly. At present, he was sleeping on her sofa. He had fed twice from her in an attempt to speed his healing, which was even more of a priority given the fact that the terrible news from Equatoria and the sudden arrival of Senator Clark meant they had to be prepared for anything.
The princess's troubled gaze lingered on Gareth's sleeping form. He was covered with a cooling blanket and settled under a slowly spinning fan. Most of his deep wounds had sealed, but the vivid burns on his face still looked like a savage sunburn.
Gareth's eyes slipped open. “You make me nervous when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Brood. Your brooding is rather loud.”
“Oh please. I was hardly—” His eyebrow rose. “Fine. I was brooding. It's not like you don't.”
“Mine is inherent to my romantic nature. Cloaks and castles.”
Adele threw up her hands. “That's it. You are forbidden to look at any more cheap books about yourself.”
“What are you brooding about?” he asked. “Your father?”
“No. You.”
“Well, that's unoriginal.”
She sighed. “And Senator Clark.”
“Oh, him.” He shifted gingerly and sat up.
“He's furious I won't see him.”
“Pity,” Gareth replied dryly.
“I will have to at some point.”
“Do you know what you are going to say to him?”
“Very little. My plans have nothing to do with him now. They're all about my brother. And my people.” A knock on the door sent Adele grabbing for Greyfriar's scarf on the table. “Just a moment.”
Gareth grinned at her alarm and wound the cloth meticulously around his face. Adele waited until he slipped on his smoked glasses and gloves before answering the door. Colonel Anhalt stood there, and behind him, Mamoru.
Adele shouted his name with delight and impulsively hugged the schoolteacher. Then she pulled back and stared at him. She touched his still-swollen face and noticed a cutlass in the sash of his robe instead of his sacred katana. “What happened to you? Were you injured?”
He smiled modestly. “It is nothing, Highness. A slight disagreement with Lord Kelvin.”
“Kelvin? What did he do?” Adele gasped when she spied the healing scars on his wrists. “He imprisoned you? Were you beaten? I'll kill him!”
“No, no. He can hardly be blamed for his limited vision. To dwell on it only gives him a victory. May we come inside?”
“Of course.” Adele drew both men in, clutching Mamoru's arm tightly. “I'm so grateful to see you! I couldn't believe you came all this way with Senator Clark. This I have to hear about.”
“It was rather dull.” Mamoru's dark eyes were bright with intensity. “There is much we need to talk about that is more important.”
“Agreed! However did you find me? I thought we had covered our trail well. Were we careless in Cairo or Abu Simbel? Or was it the colonel's pirate ship that gave us away?”
Anhalt coughed. “Really, Your Highness. You shouldn't jest.”
Mamoru glanced humorously at the sheepish officer, then shook his head. “None of those things.” He whispered, “What you did in the Rwenzoris sent shockwaves through every dragon spine. Apparently there is an unmapped rift there. I felt it in the Sahara. I must know everything about it.”
Adele blushed. The unabashed wonder in her teacher's voice was not something she often heard.
Greyfriar was painstakingly rising to his feet to greet them, his hand extended to greet the renowned Japanese mentor. When Mamoru clasped hands, his expression changed radically. Greyfriar hissed in pain and jerked his smoking hand away. In a blur, Mamoru drew the cutlass. Adele screamed a warning but was too slow to stop Mamoru. His sword flashed, and only Gareth's reflexes saved him. He flung himself backward over the couch that was seconds later cleaved fabric to frame.
“Mamoru! Stop!” Adele shouted.
“Vampire!” the samurai cried out, leaping over the eviscerated furniture to pursue the enemy.
“No! No, it's Greyfriar!”
Mamoru chased the backpedaling Greyfriar, who scrambled to reach his weapons. He tore his rapier from its sheath and barely brought it up in time to ward off a decapitating blow, but the force of the strike cascaded through his weakened muscles. The clash of steel rang out through the room as Greyfriar deflected more blows. Each step of his retreat was hampered by clumsy exhaustion. Adele's luxurious quarters became a battlefield as the two combatants maneuvered for room and opportunity. Mamoru held nothing back, and Greyfriar barely stayed ahead of the vicious assault.
“Enough!” Adele grabbed her mentor's arm. Mamoru shoved her roughly aside, and she went down hard on her hands and knees.
This galvanized the shocked Colonel Anhalt into action, and he raced toward the duelists. Clearly, the schoolteacher was mistaken or out of his mind with sunstroke.
Greyfriar ducked the cutlass, but the feint left him unbalanced, with his back wide open. He managed to block the samurai's downward slash, but he couldn't see that Mamoru's other h
and grasped something shiny, a crystal. The moment Mamoru's hand touched the vampire, Greyfriar screamed in agony. Colonel Anhalt tackled the samurai to the ground.
“Get off me, you fool!” was the schoolteacher's angry retort.
“Lay down your sword,” shouted Anhalt, putting the muzzle of his revolver to Mamoru's head, then cocking the hammer.
Mamoru struggled, glaring at the soldier. “Didn't you hear what I said? Adele is in danger! He's a vampire!”
Adele again grabbed Mamoru's sword arm. “I know!”
Mamoru and Anhalt froze, looking at her with mouths gaping.
Mamoru's eyes were as hard as his steel blade. “You know?”
“I beg you to listen to me. I know he's a vampire, but I swear to you he is nothing like his brethren.”
“Obviously. He's far more devious!”
“No! He helped us.” When Mamoru scoffed bitterly and tried to lift his arm, Adele held it firm. “Please drop your sword.”
“You are misguided,” the samurai snarled. “Bewitched!”
“In love,” Adele clarified.
“Same thing!”
“Drop your sword, I said!” She was dead serious. “You need me. I don't know why, but you do. So do as I say or I'm lost to you forever.”
Mamoru fumed. “You are as manipulative as he.”
“I wouldn't have to be if you would just let me explain.”
“No, Adele, let me explain,” Mamoru snapped back coldly. “Your father is dead! Murdered by his kind!”
“I know that, but it has nothing to do with him. Greyfriar wasn't there. He was with me.”
“How convenient!” Mamoru said. “He must have been part of it. Why would he be here otherwise? He used you.”
“No! I am telling you as your student and as your empress, he is not our enemy!” Adele tightened her grip on her teacher's wrist.
The samurai shook his head in disbelief, but let the cutlass clatter to the stone floor. “I should have realized that this was a possibility after your capture. I overestimated your ability to resist. They've swayed you somehow.”
The Rift Walker Page 34