Blood Queen
"Lord Morphis," Roff bowed respectfully to Erland. "Please, follow me." The guard's eyebrows rose slightly as Erland offered him a glare and swept inside the suite. He employed a bit of power to slam the door behind him, too.
"Kiarra, Adam, Merrill," Erland nodded respectfully to each of the visiting Saa Thalarr.
"Erland," Adam and Merrill knew Erland Morphis well; he owned a casino on the Gambling planet of Campiaa, just as they did. Glinda, however, knew Erland better than anyone; she'd worked as his bodyguard for many years before she was invited to join the Saa Thalarr. Erland went to sit beside Glinda; she seemed upset. He'd heard she was pregnant, but didn't want to let her know that.
"Glinda, love, what's wrong?" Erland placed an arm around her. She was one of two women he wouldn't mind bedding. Otherwise, his interests currently ran toward males.
"I thought Kifirin destroyed the Ra'Ak," Glinda turned to Erland, burying her head against his shoulder.
"He didn't? Then who did?" Erland rubbed Glinda's back gently. He knew, as did many others, that Kifirin's planet had been attacked by Ra'Ak and that somehow they'd been beaten back, even with more than six thousand High Demons in league with them. That's what Erland heard from his sources, anyway. Too bad there weren't vid images of any of it.
Kiarra watched Erland Morphis's face. He was interested now, she could tell. None of them knew. "It was Griffin's daughter, Lissa," Kiarra sighed. "The Vampire Queen. She did this for us. Killed herself for us. She died, taking down the Ra'Ak Prince."
Erland was a blur as he stood, and he began cursing in so many languages Kiarra had difficulty interpreting all of it. Glinda was staring at Kiarra in shock. A Vampire Queen? She'd read the records in the archives. The last Vampire Queen on Le-Ath Veronis had stood against the Ra'Ak long ago, dying to protect her people. She'd been the one to beg the High Demons to take the comesuli; the ones they called common demons, now. She'd also begged the High Demons to take some of her vampires.
The High Demon King at the time—Glinda's father—had refused, choosing only to accept the common demons, as they could be useful to the High Demons. He'd almost destroyed them all with the decision he'd made. Glinda still loved him; he'd been a good father to her. He'd just made a few bad choices during his rule.
"The little Vampire Queen is dead?" Erland looked sad, now. Kiarra had no idea how Erland could have known of Lissa.
"You know her?"
Erland snorted. "Knew of her," he replied, beginning to pace inside Glinda's spacious suite. "I forgot her for a time, as did most others. My memory of her returned only recently. This is the worst of news. I and one other have recalled that she saved Refizan three hundred years ago."
"Oh, no," Merrill muttered.
"She's really dead?" Roff had been listening in and was now breaking out of his stunned silence. "There was a Queen Vampire and she died?" He sounded lost.
Glinda stared at her assistant. She knew what the news of a Queen Vampire would hold for the common demons; a Queen was hope to them. Hope that one day they could return to their home world and perhaps become what they held the promise to be—vampire and whole, in their own right.
"She sacrificed herself for us. And for you," Merrill looked Roff in the eye. "You and I have met before, little comesula. You don't remember it because Kifirin took you from the future. The little Queen loved you, Roff. I believe it was her love for you and for Giff and the others that she died as she did."
Roff was weeping and would have dropped to the floor had Erland not held him up. "I shouldn't have told him," Merrill muttered, rising from his seat.
"I have to go; the King Vampire on Refizan will be greatly disappointed with this news," Erland settled Roff on Glinda's chaise and folded away.
Glinda was staring, first at Merrill, then at Roff, then at Kiarra. "How did this happen?" she demanded.
* * *
"Master!" Noff shook Darvul awake. It was late, the moon was nearly down and dawn was perhaps three clicks away. "Wake, master! Our little common is moaning and moving about!"
"What?" Darvul woke quickly. Noff helped him sit up in bed. "What time is it?" Darvul struggled to see the timepiece beside his bed, something nearly impossible for the newly wakened in semidarkness.
"Fourth click, master," Noff was nervous with impatience and anticipation. He and Darvul had taken rooms inside the infirmary, as did many other physicians and assistants after the battle fifteen days before. All remained close, watching over patients. Many injured commons had gone home already if their homes remained standing. Others stayed, still nursing wounds. None had remained unconscious as long as Darvul and Noff's patient, however. Several others who'd experienced comas died from their injuries.
The little common was moaning softly as Darvul rushed inside the room. Fluids were still being administered intravenously; otherwise, the patient would have died. As it was, the little common was emaciated but alive.
"Are you going to wake for us?" Darvul spoke softly, brushing hair away from the common's face.
"Please wake," Noff begged.
"Bring a lamp," Darvul commanded. Noff ran to obey.
* * *
He opened his eyes, trying to bring his surroundings into focus. A blurry face hovered over his and words were spoken; words that he failed to understand. A moan escaped him and he frowned at the noise until he realized he was making it himself. More words came; they were just as confusing as the others. They seemed to be questions for which he had no answers.
The room brightened; another being brought something that created the brightness. He squinted; the light hurt his eyes. It was dimmed quickly.
* * *
"He doesn't understand us," Noff was upset over this new revelation.
"He suffered a head injury. How can we know how extensive it may have been? Go now—find broth—we must attempt to feed him while he is awake," Darvul ordered. Noff left the room in a rush, intent on find something to feed the little common.
"Here now, eat this," Noff held the spoon to the common's lips, in an attempt to convince his patient to eat. He and Darvul managed to get the small common upright and sitting in bed, stacking many pillows behind his back to achieve that feat. It took several tries before the scent of food convinced the little common to try it. After that, it was easy. He was quite hungry as it turned out, and Darvul had to ration the broth so the common wouldn't make himself ill by eating too much too quickly.
"We will feed you again soon," Darvul promised as daybreak came. Noff was settling the little common back in his bed so he might sleep.
"He woke briefly," Darvul explained to another assistant. "Please make sure he eats every two hours. No solid food at first—broth only."
The assistant nodded. "Anything else, master?" he asked.
"The little common doesn't understand anything we say. His head injury must have been severe. Please don't frighten or agitate him. I will go to Lady Mayarok later and tell her this one's convalescence may be extensive."
"She will obtain funds for us if such is the case," the assistant nodded. "The Raona herself has promised to provide funding for any common that needs the care. Do we know what the common's name is?"
"We do not and none have come forward with information. We can only assume his entire family perished," Darvul sighed. "I am going to return to bed and sleep for a click or two. Wake me if there is need." Darvul strode down the long hall toward his room. The assistant went to see the little miracle himself. His master predicted that this common would die. Fortunately, he had been in error.
* * *
Noff held a cup of tea in his hands as he leaned against the outside wall of the infirmary. Built on a single level, the long building had square windows spaced at even intervals down each side. The infirmary was fashioned of whitewashed brick with fired tile floors and stucco walls that could be cleaned easily. Inside walls were painted a muted green with white trim, designed to be restful for the ones who received treatment within.
Common demons were not susceptible to diseases like so many other races. They were often injured, however, just as anyone else might be. Common physicians and their assistants generally treated broken bones, cuts, sprains, bruises and burns. The multitude of injuries resulting from the battle had taxed their knowledge to the limit.
Noff hadn't gone back to his bed as Darvul had done; he'd been too excited to sleep. Their little common had wakened against all odds. He intended to check on the patient again in only a moment or two, as soon as he finished his tea.
"Has anything changed?" Noff asked his fellow assistant as he walked into the room.
"I was about to get broth for him; it is almost time for the next feeding," Orliff yawned, stretching his arms out. Unlike Noff, Orliff's hair was dark, his eyes blue. "My last charge went home earlier, so my master is happy to allow me to help with this one," Orliff added.
"I'll get the broth, unless you want to do it," Noff offered.
"Go ahead," Orliff nodded.
Noff was back in ticks with a bowl of broth and a spoon on a tray. Darvul removed the IV earlier, fearing the little common might tear it from his hand since he didn't understand what was going on around him.
Noff and Orliff woke the little common, who seemed confused as they attempted to sit him up so he could eat. "Eat," Orliff made an eating motion with his hand. The little common stared for a moment before blinking in what Noff hoped was understanding. He allowed Noff and Orliff to place him in a sitting position after that, and accepted the broth Noff spoon-fed him.
"Noff," Noff pointed to himself. "Orliff," he pointed to Orliff. The little common looked from one to the other but still hadn't attempted speech. "What's your name?" Noff tapped the little common's chest gently. His ribs were still wrapped because of the breaks and his wrist was also splinted and heavily bandaged for the same reason. The little common blinked and shook his head.