Chapter Nine: A Fare For the Ferryman

by Carl E. Mullin ©2020

She lay wet and still.

Her mouth was still open in exhausted relief. Her wrists bound with flimsy twine with solemn dignity. Gloveless fingers caressed her damp forehead with slow affection. Above her nude body, her other hand sprinkled the crushed leaves of oregano. They fell light onto the bullet-ridden chest cleaned of blood and weeds. The pungent scent of the mint rose from the body. A branch of vine she placed inside the bound hands. Her fingers stroked some more on her pale head. Then her head of curvy blond hair bent down to plant a chaste kiss on her forehead. She rose with an aching sigh, “She was going to get married, you know. Just got engaged.”

A hand rested on Hannah’s shoulder. “I know,” Dagny Mark answered.

“She just got engaged, Dagny. I should have left her behind. Get another gunner.”

“You did not have the time.”

“Time,” she sniffed. “We had a Hel of a time together, didn’t we, Marion?” She fingered Marion’s necklaced ring hanging with her dog tags resting on her chest. “I should get that ring back to him.”

“Do what you think is right,” she answered as her hand pressed her shoulder.

She sniffed and, with a gentle movement, she slid the chain off Marion’s neck . She made a broken smile as she brushed her friend’s hair, “I’ll take care of this. I promise.”

“She knows you will.”

She wiped her eye. “Thank you, Captain. How are you feeling?”

“Bone tired. But I’ll manage, Hannah. You?”

She sniffed, “Going to pieces.”

From behind Dagny put another hand on her friend. “I know.”

“Lieutenant?” a man’s voice asked. They turned to a corporal in his heavy slick apron and gloves and kind eyes, “I regret to bother you, sirs. But if you need a moment more we can do that. Just…” He nodded at their backs.

The girls looked around at the field full of bags and screaming seagulls hovering in the air. There were seven more black smokes nearby, adding to the fires of the concluded battle. The volcano had settled down for now to a low burn.

“Fucking birds,” Hannah muttered and continued, “No. It’s alright. It’s time anyway.” She caressed Marion’s face once more. She hugged herself and nodded. The corporal nodded to his associate standing by the Burial Registration unit’s mobile crematory unit.

With gentle care, the corporal covered Marion’s body and slid her steel plate forward on the bed of rollers. A teethed chain caught the underside of the plate and guided it toward the wheeled machine. The girls followed with a decent distance. Dagny winced a bit, her hand on her side as she walked with a stiff leg.

Hannah looked around, “Dagny?”

“A little ache. Nothing more.”

“Uh, huh.” She uncapped her stringed canteen, “You and your stiff upper lips. I swear to the sacred Elohim. Here.” Dagny looked at the offered canteen. “Drink it.” Dagny took it and looked at her again. “Drink it.” She sipped a bit of water and handed it back. Hannah pushed Dagny’s hand back up to her face. “Drink it up, darling. Your momma says so.” She gave her a look and took a long and warm draw of water. Hannah watched her throat making a gulping movement, “I’m so sorry I had to crack your corset but you were drowning and I–”

“You did what you had to. And never you mind, it’s a mere bruise.”

“Dagny, how can you be this fu-, I mean how can you be this calm? You were drowning–” Her words were cut short by the deep snap of the crematory’s heavy door as it opened.

They stood in quiet salute as Marion’s body was rolled inside, Hannah holding her breath. The scorched door snapped shut. She choked as her eyes welled again, their tears blenching her soot-brushed cheeks. Dagny held her arm to comfort her. She looked up at her friend and nodded, fisting her friend’s dog tags and ring. They followed the corporal alongside the crematory.

Along the side of the machine, men worked their final duty to the dead. A hatch was opened for the stamping stall stocked with brass plates and tools. The machinist stamped the name and rank and serial number with practiced hands and then signed off the data on his clipboard. The plate was handed off to another man who fixed it to a brass urn. The third man took the urn in his heavy gloves and put it inside a nook under the funnel. He peeked through the scorched visor and started the fire. A slat of orange light lit his observing eyes.

Minutes passed as the gulls continued their cries in the air. Hannah looked up at the birds with murder in her eyes. “Shh,” Dagny urged her. The girls looked to their side and watched other men loading their crates of urns atop each other on the bed of a truck. A hundred were already loaded.

The cremator produced a brass cup and peeked through the visor again before shutting it off. He handed the urn with its detached cap to the corporal. In a quiet voice the corporal asked, “Sirs.”

Hannah sniffed and inspected the label. She nodded and detached one of the dog tags and placed it inside the urn. She dug into her corset’s pouches and held up two coins, copper-bright. “A fare for the ferryman,” she said. With a heavy sigh she deposited them in the urn. Then the corporal produced a tooth encased in a sealed plastic vial and placed it inside as well. He screwed the cap on tight.

“I’ll need your certification, sir.” He held up his clipboard full of forms. She signed her name. “Thank you, shall we ship it?”

“No. No, I’ll take it. I know her parents. It’s my job.”

“You’re certain? You don’t have to, sir.”

“I’m sure.” He handed it to her and she cradled it in her arms. “Damn it, girl, since when did you put on the weight for a skinny gal like you?”

Dagny smiled a small smile and then winced at her side.

Hannah looked down at the urn with pensive eyes, “Let’s go.”

They walked away from the crematory, passing the endless filled bags lining the ash-sprinkled field, a harvest for the mighty Woden.

“At least the volcano’s quiet now.”

“For now.”

“Dagny…after what you went through…you didn’t have to help me search for her. And your unit…”

“She is as dear to me as to you.”

She smirked, “Noble heart as always.” She opened her mouth and then shut it. They walked down the field in silence.

Dagny spoke, “I haven’t had the chance really to-”

“It’s done, Captain.” Pause. “I have no earthly idea what to say.”

“You will. Her parents will thank you enough for bringing their daughter home.”

“It’s her beau that I’m thinking of. To propose and then to lose all that in one day, that’s a fuck-up, Dagny Mark. I’m mailing his ring back but…shit.”

“You will. You’re good with words, Hannah.”

She scoffed, “I’m a gasbag.”

“And a friend.”

They stopped on the dirt road and looked at each other. Hannah smiled a crooked smile, “Some friend you turned out to be, trying to get me killed every single time.”

“Professional hazard.”

She scoffed, “Your hair should be declared a fire hazard.”

They shared a small smile and continued their walk. They didn’t get far when a jeep roared toward them carrying one livid general with a sharp nose. “You! Captain Dagny Mark!”

The girls stiffened at attention.

The general rushed from his jeep to glare in Dagny’s face. “You think you’re such a clever girl, do you? Shooting up my radio set, eh? Making it out like a spray sniper shot, what? Oi! And who the Hel gave you the permission to leave the field? No one, that’s who! Do you understand what all this amounts to, clever girl?”

“Insubordination, sir?”

“Bloody damn right! I ought have you court-martialed and have you shot right here and right now!”

“Sir, request per–”

“Request denied! You were told in explicit terms to take Fort Black South and to hold it unless ordered otherwise. Leaving your post wasn’t in the plan.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Well, splendid! Finally getting through to you have we?”

“That was before the variables kicked in, sir.”

The general grunted in frustration, “And I suppose you’ll be the one to change things, eh? Bollocks!” As the general ranted, another jeep pulled up. A person climbed out and walked over to them. “We will decided what to do with those ‘variables’, not you! Ever since you have entered my command you have been a burden and a sore upon my ares! Always questioning. Always suggesting.”

“Sir–”

“I’m not done yet, solider!”

“What seems to be the trouble, solider?” the tall officer in black asked.

The general spun around in anger, ready to reprove the unseen intruder. His open mouth froze when he saw the black uniform with ornate golden oak leaves running up her collar. Above, her calm brown eyes looked down at him. He stiffened at attention, “Marshal Popova! I wasn’t aware that you have come for a personal inspection, sir.”

“Danke, but I’m not. I’ve come for her,” she nodded at Dagny.

“H-her? But, sir, I’m having her court-martialed for insubordination, criminal destruction of the military property, absence without leave, and…and quite a few other offenses, sir.”

“Then un-court-martial her, General Blankblot.” (Ha! Ha! I like his name :-))

“Sir?”

Popova ignored him and strolled to the girls, “At ease.” They relaxed. She smiled, “Dagny Mark.”

“Commandant. I mean…Marshal, sir.”

Her smile grew broad, “Old habits die hard, nyet?”

General Blankblot stared, “Ah, you know her?”

“Yes. She was one of my students at Sandhurst. Academically, she leaves much to be desired. But in combat arts? Oh, she was quite good at her age.” She turned to the petite girl, “And you must be the little girl they call ‘Spitfire’?”

Hannah stood a little taller, “Yes, sir. That’ll be me, sir. Lieutenant Hannah Morganstein of the Fifth Wyvern Corps, sir!”

Popova eyed Dagny with a knowing look, “I see that your talent for finding friends hasn’t rusted yet in the past few years.”

“She–,” Dagny glanced at Hannah. “We met in a campaign in Iberia, sir. Under the Duke of Marlborough, that is. Sir, you won’t find a surer friend than this one in desperate circumstances. She’ll come through. That you can count on, sir.” Hannah grew two inches taller. “This I swear, Commandant.”

“Your statement is enough, Captain Mark. Maxim Number Nineteenth, remember that.”

“‘Avoid oaths.’ Yes, sir.”

“Lord Apollo advised this to us, mortals.” Her eyes grew hard. “Do remember this, Dagny Mark. It will serve you well all the days of your life, da?

She swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

The Marshal relaxed with quiet pride as she studied her. Then she glanced at the urn in Hannah’s arms. “This is your friend?”

“Her name’s Marion. Mrs. Marion Ashley.”

“Ah. She is married, da?

“Yes, sir,” she answered in a quiet voice.

The marshal made a sacred sign of touching her forehead, then her lips before touching the smooth urn. “Kharis,” she recited a word of deep respect to the dead, completing the sacred sign. “Rest easy, Lieutenant, her shade and the shades of all who perished this day shall join their power to our ancestors to watch over us with the same love that they had in this life. I am sure your tears have moved her heart to a greater love than before. You can be sure she is hearted by you today. She’ll have my prayers.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Popova studied her. “Your accent, it is familiar to me somehow. Would you be from Halych by any chance?”

For the first time, Hannah brightened, “Yes, sir. Born and bred, sir.”

“I was right about you. You’re a Habiru. How have you come to be in the Service?”

“Yes, sir, that’s me, sir. The same way you did, Marshal. I came and pledged my sword to Her Majesty. And mighty proud of it, sir.”

“A dragon rider. A very valuable commodity.”

“England’s for me and I for England. Won’t change anything for this, sir. The Seventy Sons of El are my witnesses, sir!”

“And your Queen Asherah as well. I have visited your Duchess on one of my diplomatic missions for the Republic of Novgorod and the Hanseatic League. A beautiful country. Fine, fine horses. Stout farmers and soldiers your people are. They would match well with the old Romans.”

“Thank you, sir.”

General Blankblot spoke up, “Excuse me, Marshal, but may I inquire after the reason of your being here, sir? I understand that there is a connection between Captain Mark and you but surely there must be another reason for your presence here. Sir.”

 “There is, General” She faced Dagny. “I have just received the word that the Purifiers have surrendered unconditionally. They will return home to their Imperium and leave the Iberian Empire unmolested to the last man. The war is over.”

Hannah sputtered, “We won, sir?”

“A complete victory, Lieutenant. Lady Nike has delivered a victory to us. Peace has returned.”

Dagny spoke up, “Captain Aldershot?”

“Alive. Surprisedly so. But his courage has cost him his leg and he is now in coma. How long? I do not know. He will get his reward, but not alone.” She faced Dagny again and smiled. “The Girl With Dragonfire Hair, that’s what everyone is calling you now.”

Dagny and Hannah looked at each other in bewilderment. “I-I don’t understand, sir.”

“You don’t? Dagny, the battle was a damn close going thing. That volcano cost us our chief advantage. Then those planes almost took down our carriers. Things have gone badly for us. But you, you took initiative, you and your friend here. It may seem a small thing, taking out a couple of battleships, but you have proven yourself to be quite a thorn to the enemy and brought us a breather. You inspired us, Dagny Mark. We likely would have to forfeit this battle and prolong this war, The war ended today thanks to the Girl With Dragonfire Hair.” The towering woman locked eyes with hers, “Today, you have become the heroine of England.”

“I…I was merely doing my duty, sir.”

“I would hardly call this ‘a mere duty’. Captain Mark, I have sent my highest recommendation to the Ministry of War for you and Captain Aldershot to receive the Order of Ethandun.”

Hannah’s eyes rounded, “Oh, Dagny!”

“The Queen has requested the pleasure of your presence. Therefore, you are to report to London forthright.”

Dagny protested, “I’m not worthy, sir.”

Hannah interrupted, “Oh, hush you! Marshal? The captain hurt her ribs today. Might be some cracks that need inspection. Request permission to accompany her, sir.”

Popova smiled, “I would have sent you anyway but you have my permission. See to it that she receives the best care so that she’ll look her best in the audience with the Queen.”

“Yes, sir!”

Popova saluted first and the girls followed. “The Girl With Dragonfire Hair. A very proper name for you.”

“But, sir, what about her misconduct?” General Blankblot asked.

Popova waved off the objection. “Ne bud’ povarom, kotoryy razgovarivayet, poka kot tvoyu kuritsu.”

“Sir?”

The Marshall considered her words and then, “Don’t be the cook who talks while the cat eats your chicken.”

“I don’t understand.”

She sighed, “An old Russian parable. Come, let us discuss this matter over a well-earned tea.” They left for the jeep.

Hannah looked up to the clearing sky in rapture. “London. The City of Clouds.”

But Dagny looked off into the distance, her face troubled.