Fourth Vector Ch. 19

"There," said Edwin triumphantly as the dispatch went out to Galicia. "Let's see what they have to say."

"I will say that this will look bad for the queen though," said Neil as his hand went to his chin. "The regent will be displeased that she's sheltering enemies of the state."

"Let the regent deal with her," said Edwin dismissively. "It's not of our concern. I hope they get a message back to us in a quick manner though. Even though it looked like they were here to stay, I don't want to let them get away."

"Do you think they might send us after them? You know, to keep an eye on them? Hunt them down?" asked Neil.

Edwin made a disgusted face. "We're ambassadors, Neil. Not assassins. The regent has men for that kind of task. Will you relax already?"

Neil finally sat down, looking like a wounded puppy. It allowed Edwin the chance to go through any new messages that had come through for the day. He'd been reviewing those for no longer than fifteen minutes when a new dispatch began to come in. Immediately, his eyes went wide at receiving a possible response to his request.

"Is that our response?" asked Neil, once more excited. "That was quick, right? Almost too quick to be our response to that, right?"

"Will you shut up and wait for it to print out?" said an annoyed Edwin. "Gods, man, you're like a yappy dog sometimes. You'll never be a full ambassador if you don't learn to control yourself."

For a moment, Edwin wondered if he went too far with Neil, as the defeated man walked away in pain, yet it was forgotten as soon as the dispatch was fully out and in his hands. The message was brief but concise.

"Well, it looks like we'll need to hire those assassins after all," said a satisfied Edwin as he turned back to Neil. "You know what to do."

For once, Neil's overeagerness didn't bother Edwin.

In fact, he relished it.

*****

"Psst. Greg. Are you awake?"

Greg's heavy eyelids fluttered open briefly before the pain hit him again. Sleep was the only thing that kept it at bay, and the sudden resumption of consciousness brought the reality of his condition back home once more. Reaching up to grab his neck, his fingers traced the outline of his swollen lymph node, the surest telltale sign of the plague.

"I am now," he grumbled as his fingers finally fell to his side.

Vera coughed heavily before she responded. "Sorry, just wanted to check on you. You'd been out for some time."

"It's the only thing that makes this bearable," he said quietly. "I'm of half a mind to ask Kendall to smash a board over my head just so it knocks me out long enough for it to either kill me or go away."

He heard the sound of giggling as Vera took in that statement. Pivoting his head, he turned to look at her. He'd certainly seen Vera in much better situations. Even when they'd rescued her from the Sorellan harem, where she was half nude, dirty, and hungry, she'd looked better. Right now, her blonde hair was a tangled mess, her beautiful face was pale and clammy, and even from this short distance, he could see the swollen protrusions on her neck.

Yet for the last few days, she'd been his only companion, and truthfully, he wouldn't have asked for anyone else. Even though the times when they were both lucid were few and far between, they spent them in idle conversation and chatter, always finding time to laugh about something, even if it was their own sorry state.

"I see one problem with that though," coughed out Vera. "If he knocks you out, then I'll have no one to talk to."

"You can always talk to Kendall," replied Greg, earning another giggle from her.

"I'll pass on that. I feel like a lab experiment with how he treats us. Plus, I don't like talking to someone behind so many layers of protective clothing. It just doesn't feel right."

"I'm sure if you asked him nicely, he'd gladly remove them.''

"Pass," said Vera with a small smile. "Guess you'll just have to stay awake."

"I guess so," he said with a dramatic sigh. "There are worse fates."

Several minutes of silence went by before Greg turned to look back over at Vera. Her eyes were open, and she was staring up at the ceiling. "What's on your mind, Vera?"

She took a deep breath, a weak and faint one that was an ever-present reminder of their situation. "Truthfully? Whether we are going to die in here."

"That's pretty heavy."

"Sorry," she replied. "But you asked."

"I guess I could've expected as much," he said simply. "It's been on my mind too."

"So will we?"

"Will we what?"

"Will we die in here, Greg?"

The big question on everyone's mind, I'm sure.

"I sure hope not, Vera," he said finally. "I sure hope not."

"Me too."

"We shouldn't have even been in here in the first place," he continued.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I should've kept my distance from those rags. And from you, more importantly. I'd feel a lot better about this if it were just me in here. The fact that your life is in danger too doesn't make this any easier."

"That was actually really sweet of you," said Vera with a faint laugh.

Greg chuckled. "Like that, huh?"

"I do. Sweet talker."

"Might as well get it all out now. Who knows if I'll ever be . . ." He didn't finish the sentence, knowing that he didn't have to. They'd both had similar musings over the last few days, never knowing if they were spending their last moments alive.

In the beginning, it was depressing. So was any attempt to confront your own mortality, and it doubled when you had to do it in the presence of another. After a while, it became cathartic, mostly because they were suffering together. What she went through, he did, and vice versa. For that reason, there was no better friend to have, and their morbid musings helped to keep them sane, as counterintuitive as it sounded.

He was too stuck in his head, and it only became apparent when Vera called out for him again.

"I'm still here," he said. "Barely. At least I've made my last mistake. I've put my life on the line so many times in the last decade. There have been too many fights when I should've been killed outright. Either from a bullet that just missed me, or when we were in Andalucia, and an arrow appeared in the space my head was just in. It got to the point where I never thought about the risk anymore. No, I just did it. My lucky streak has finally run out. I knew there would come a time when I couldn't cheat death any further." He turned his head to look at her. "I think I've finally come to that time. My number is due."

To her credit, Vera didn't indulge his pity party. "Are you all done with that or do you have any more in there to get out?"

It made him chuckle. In a way, it sounded like typical marine banter. "Hey, I'm over here baring my soul to you and that's what you have to say?"

She giggled. "I just thought you were talking a whole lot of nothing, so I might as well get you to cut it out now."

"A whole lot of nothing?" he repeated incredulously. He turned his head too quickly, instantly feeling the pain in his neck. "Some friend you are."

Vera reached out and grabbed his hand from across her cot. She squeezed it gently. "Do you want to know something, Greg?"

"From you? I don't know if I really do," he grumbled.

She continued on anyway. "I think the fact that you are continually ready to risk your life for your country and your friends is one of the things that makes you so extraordinary. It's what first really caught my attention about you. Your selflessness and your devotion to duty are not replicated by just any man."

"Don't forget my rugged good looks," he added, causing Vera to swat at him.

"You're so convinced that you made a mistake like it was something that you chose to do," she said. "You and I both know it was nothing of the sort."

"We do?"

She nodded. "You would've done it because it was the right thing to do. Because that's who you are, Greg. It's why you command all these men because when the time comes, you can be counted on to lead by example. It's why the thought of danger never occurred to you when it came time to volunteer for such a dangerous mission, even though I'm sure the vast majority of men would've turned it down. But not you, never you. You don't think of the danger. You only see what needs to be done, and so you do it. That's what makes you so special."

"And my good looks too? You really can't forget that, Vera."

She swatted him again, much harder this time. "Be serious, won't you!" she chastised. Finally, she admitted it out loud though. "But yes, you're not terrible on the eyes either."

He wasn't sure why, but despite the pain that he felt all over his body, he smiled with a grin of excitement that he hadn't felt in years.

"But there is more to it though, Greg. You need to be more cautious with your life. You only have one, and look where we are now?"

"It may be a little too late for that now, Vera. We may not have much of a choice."

She squeezed his hand. "Well, then, I suppose you need to make me a promise then."

"What kind of promise?"

"A promise that says if we get out here, no,when we get out of here, you'll be more careful in the future."

"And why would I make you a promise like that?"

She pushed his hand away. "Do I need to spell it out for you, you big lug?"

Greg chuckled and reached out for her hand. "It could help me if you do."

"Well, I won't. Not right now at least."

"Maybe when this is all over?"

"Maybe. No promises."

"So if I make you this promise, then what?"

Vera pursed her lips. "Then you'll make me very happy."

"I do enjoy making you happy."

She giggled. "I've noticed. And I want you to continue to do so. You can't risk your life on a whim. More people care about you than you know."

"Like you?"

"Of course, like me. Who did you think I was talking about?"

"I thought maybe you meant Kendall," said Greg offhandedly.

Vera nearly snorted in laughter but then she whimpered as soon as it was over. "Damn you, that hurt!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"Stop making me laugh, Greg. My poor body is sore enough as is."

"Well, if we do get out of here, maybe I'll have to do something about that."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"Like take care of you and that body of yours."

"Don't make promises that you can't keep," she said.

"That's one promise I intend to keep," he replied. "That is, as long as you'd like that too?"

Vera sighed happily. "I think I would love that."

"Then we're agreed? We walk out of here all healed and we start to spend more time together?"

"A lot more time together," she added while raising an eyebrow.

"How much is a lot?"

"Nights and weekends?"

"It's a deal," he answered. "Nights would be amazing."

"Yes, they would. It's been a long time for me since I . . . spent the night with anyone."

"That's a pity," he replied. "You've been neglected. We can't have that."

"I really have been. Maybe you can fix that?"

"I'd love to, Vera. I really would."

"I'd love it if you did too, Greg."

He squeezed her hand gently. "Well, that settles that then."

"It sure does. Now let's just focus on getting out of here."

"Can't wait," he replied.

In that moment, nothing else needed to be said. From across their beds, they focused on the only physical connection they could muster at that time—a soft touch of their hands. It was both some relief for the present and a promise for the future at the same time. It was much needed comfort for both of their weary bodies, but it wasn't to last.

Greg didn't figure it out until that evening when Vera stopped responding to his questions. He thought that maybe she'd just fallen asleep, but his subtle attempts to wake her fell on deaf ears. The commotion he caused trying to get her attention brought the notice of Dr. Kendall, who quickly examined her body.

"What's wrong with her, doc? Is she still all right?" he asked as he pushed his tired body up to look at her.

"She's in a deep sleep now, Greg. Her vitals are still there, but they're weak. Unfortunately, this seems to be a textbook case of how the plague proceeds," said Kendall with a helpless look.

"She's not in pain, is she? Is there anything you can do for her?"

"The sleep will help moderate her pain levels right now," answered the doctor. "But for now, there's nothing I can do. It has to run its course. We'll keep feeding her the medication, but she just needs to rest. As do you as well."

Greg stared up at the ceiling feeling like doing anything but resting, especially with Vera in this condition.

It's all my fault. I'm the reason she's here.

No matter what he did, he couldn't escape the blame that he placed squarely on his shoulders. In his mind, he thought of thousands of different scenarios where he didn't infect Vera, wishing for a chance to redo what had already been done. With every ounce of strength he could muster, he willed and wished for a way to send it to her and to help her overcome it.

Whether or not it was the last spent strength given over willingly to her, or whether it was just the ravages of the plague, he soon fell unconscious too.

The time for idle conversation and chatter in the infirmary was over.

*****

"What the hell do you mean there's a Swabian ship in Zarah?"

The servant who brought the dispatch nearly jumped back from the enraged King of Picardy, having just stepped into the king's chambers. Aedan was incredulous as his eyes once more raked the dispatch, confirming he hadn't imagined the words on the message.

"Sire, the message just came in from your governor. The Swabian ship requested permission to unload their soldiers."

"This goes against everything that we talked about," Aedan roared, causing the servant to turn white with shock. "I told them to stay in the capital! Is it not enough that they have two whole regiment's worth of troops in the streets of Daban?"

The servant clearly didn't know if it was a genuine question or if it was rhetorical. He bumbled through his response, causing Aedan to throw him out of the room. In the next moment, the king marched to find his wife, finding the very pregnant queen directing matters in what was to become the nursery. As her own servants decorated the room to greet their royal newcomer, Aedan fumed until she stopped to notice him.

"Aedan?" she asked with confusion. "What's wrong, dear?"

"This is what's wrong," he said, thrusting the dispatch into her hand. "Those no-good bastards have deliberately went behind my back!"

Ciara quickly scanned the message until her own eyes burned with fire. "How dare they? What could be the possible meaning of this?"

"The meaning is that they think they can just make a mockery of Picard sovereignty!" said Aedan, throwing up his hands. "I will not let this stand. They will answer for this!"

"I should hope so. I hope you called their ambassador to the palace," said Ciara. "The one called Magda. And Avila's cousin. That smarmy-looking fellow."

"I have already demanded their presence. I sent it back with the servant who brought me this," said Aedan. "This goes way too far. We will not stand for this. Picardy isn't a conquered country. If we are to be allies, we are to be on equal footing."

Ciara nodded easily to her husband's words. She gently grabbed his arm. "Hold them accountable, Aedan. Show them the kind of king you are."

He managed a brave smile before he turned his attention back to the door as another servant began to knock. Unfortunately, it wasn't the Swabian ambassadors but yet another report of their ships landing on another city on the coast. Aedan was practically frothing at the mouth by the time the Swabians appeared, a half hour later. Just as with the previous times he'd met with them, Magda walked in with a fake smile while the one called Adalbert carried a false sense of bravado. Aedan was going to relish the opportunity of knocking them down a peg.

"Your Majesty, it's so wonderful to see you," said Magda, bowing before him. "We just received word that you wished to meet. Please excuse us for the delay in getting here, as we had no idea you'd want to meet so quickly."

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Aedan, holding the dispatch up with a clenched fist. Magda's face registered the shock of the question for a split second before she resumed her calm manner. Aedan then began to read out loud the messages about the landings.

"Why, that is part of our preparation for war, Your Majesty," said Magda with enough honey in her voice to attract a host of bees. "Lord Avila wishes to show you what a valuable ally he can be. Ever since word has reached him of the possible confrontation, he's mustered his forces and made arrangements to get them to Picardy as soon as possible."

Aedan ground his teeth together. "That wasnot what we discussed! I told you that we would keep any forces that Avila wished to send here in Daban, not spread out in every city in Picardy! What use would that be to us to have all the force spread out over the country?"

"Lord Avila believes this coming war will be a long one, and it will be useful to have forces in every critical junction in the country to resist invasion. We're not sure that the Carinthians intend to attack us here in Daban."

"I'm here in Daban!" roared Aedan, causing Magda to take a step back. "Their cruiser was sunk here! It's only natural that they would come here first!"

Magda recovered her composure while Adalbert began to look more upset. "Lord Avila believes in being prepared—"

"Well who the hell asked Lord Avila what he wanted anyway?" yelled Aedan. "Is Lord Avila the King of Picardy? The last time I checked, Aedan ruled in Picardy, not Avila!"

Magda blinked without flinching. "Perhaps we should come back another time? When we can discuss this without our passions getting the best of us?"

"Tell me, Magda," continued Aedan, completely disregarding her last statement. He pointed between the two of them. "How is it that two trade envoys turn into my ambassadors for war? How is it you two are even qualified to direct Avila's response to this war? You told me you were traders."

"All Swabians are warriors at heart," said Adalbert, speaking up for the first time that day. "If my cousin wishes us to be his mouthpiece, we will do so in all matters, not just trade."

"It is still peculiar, no matter which way you cut it," said Aedan, crossing his arms.

Magda recovered the initiative. "We should come back tomorrow. Then we can further discuss the terms of our joint alliance together."

"No, you shall do no such thing," said Aedan, finding his spine for the first time. "Both of you will return to your quarters and do all in your power to redirect those ships back to Swabia. The only men we need are here in Daban. Lord Avila will respect my wishes, or we will have no accommodation whatsoever."

Magda began to pale in color. "I'm afraid Lord Avila will find that news most unfortunate. He won't be a happy man at all."

"Whether he is happy or not is not my concern," said Aedan stiffly. "I couldn't care less in fact. Aedan is the master of Picardy. If he truly wishes to ally with us, he will start treating us like an equal partner."

Before Magda had a chance to respond, Adalbert leaned into her side, whispering something into her ear. She turned her attention away from Aedan briefly, only nodding once Adalbert pulled away. Her smile resumed its place on her face.

"Very well, Your Majesty. I will send word back to Lord Avila of your wishes. I'm sure our new partnership is worth a few changes to the agenda," she said with a slight bow of the head. "In the meantime, can we begin to coordinate the training movements together? The Carinthian ultimatum expires in two days. We should work on our joint movements together so we can best resist an invasion."