Chapter Twenty-Three: The Uncanny Voice On The Tape

by Carl E. Mullin ©2020

Dagny had no time to think about her stomach when she heard “AH-ten-shuh!”

The shieldmaidens were not wearing their bear-cloaks and shields when they rose from their idleness with their pet bears. They stood smart in their resplendent uniforms with colorful embroidery and cords which added allure to their well-trimmed figures as they thrust their proud chests out. Their obedient brown bears shuffled to their assigned places by their mistresses which amused Dagny. Some things haven’t changed. “You run a tight ship, Captain Buckywood.”

“Always,” she snickered. Then she whispered, “You were one of my better guards, Commander, a little minx you may be.”

“I’m not!” she whispered back.

“Don’t be so coquette, child. You pretend to be serious but I know better with your little getaway in the woods.”

“Was I so…? Never mind. That painting’s still up.”

“The Queen’s order.”

“But I would have thought…”

“He was her father. And we all must do homage to the ancestors. For the good of the kingdom.”

“For the good of the kingdom,” she repeated with acid in her voice.

“He was a very sick man, and a king. Remember this well. We did the best we could.”

“The crown prince?”

“We have consulted the greatest of therapists. We even exhumed the bodies of West Frankia King Charles VI, his mother, and her father Duke Leger I of Bourbon, his father Duke Louis I and our Henry VI. The Queen pursued even telling dreams in the most hallowed of Apollo’s temples. The quest continued. Helena has the patience of Lady Demeter, bless her heart. And speaking of hearts, look who’s here.”

“Bernard!” Dagny gasped as a bear came to her and enveloped her in his hairy hug. “Steady, Bernard! I did not think you would still be here.” He roared a small roar of pleasure and she laughed as she rubbed his ears. He nudged her with a warm playfulness.

“I see he missed you, Commander.”

“That old flirt, he was one of the brightest lights of my former times here. Who’s his mistress now?”

“That would be Private first class Wright. She joined our sisterhood three years ago.”

“Yes, sir,” Wright answered. “Bernard, heel!” He returned to her side.

“You have trained him well, Private Wright,” Dagny smiled.

She nodded, “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“How long, solider?”

“Five years and seven months, sir. My brothers were in the Service. My father and uncles as well. One brother lost his leg in Iberia, sir.”

“I am sorry to hear this. Is he well?”

“He may be missing a leg but he’s ready to give his all for the Queen! Cheeky little sod,” She grinned.

Dagny grinned too, “He has the stallion-spirit, it seems.”

“As I say, sir. Cheeky.”

“Good girl.” She rubbed Bernard’s ear as she turned to the next guard. “Sergeant Lovewood, still here?”

“Yes, Commander. Permission to speak, sir?”

“Spill it, solider.”

“On the behalf of all the girls present, our hearty congratulations. You have well earned it, and it’s grand to see you again. Sir.”

“I…thank you. It’s a great honor from all of you.”

“The honor’s ours, sir.”

“How’s your family?”

“One daughter and two boys. Bright and spirited they are, sir. I stand ready to produce more for our sacred isle, sir.”

“He’s that good, solider?”

“The carpenter stands ready to fix the bed anytime, sir.” The girls snickered.

“Carry on, solider,” she smiled. She turned to the next girl, “How is our village martinet?”

She laughed. “Sir, it’s true I may be strict but not that strict.”

“My buttocks might disagree, Sergeant Gilmore.”

“Well-earned, sir. And you well-earned your rank now. I’d like to think I played a little help here, sir.”

“And I thank you for it, Mindy. I deserved that whip.” Gilmore beamed.

Torunn whispered in Dagny’s ear, “See that young lass? She’s new here. You’ll like her. A cadet.”

She looked and realized it was the same girl with wild innocent blue eyes. She frowned. “She seems familiar, Torunn.”

“She should. She was the Queen’s swordbearer at your knighting. She was quite taken with you since that day. She badgered us all about you for days.”

“Oh.”

“Just amuse her, Commander. A little encouragement won’t hurt. She’s bright and very anxious to do well. Like a certain solider I once knew very well.”

“Ah.” She continued to greet new and old guards one by one, inquiring after their wellbeing and of their bears. Then she faced the young and eager cadet, her curvy brown lock almost covering her left eye. “Your name and rank, solider?”

She was already breathless when she blurted, “Cadet Gwenevere Bell, sir! Fifth Class, Sandhurst. Ready for your orders, sir!” She stared straight ahead, not daring a look into her eyes.

Dagny looked back with a raised eyebrow at the approving face of Torunn and then back to the cadet. “Sandhurst, you say?”

“Yes, sir! Sir!”

“Sandhurst’s an exclusive school, opened only to appointment by the Queen and the Lords for the purpose of learning warcraft. How is it that you come by this?”

“Sir! I was able to acquire my appointment by appealing to the society of Bristol on the account of my gymnastic record, sir.”

“Gymnastics, you say? You’re that good, solider?”

She opened her small mouth and dared to peek at the Commander before looking out front, “I-I like to believe so, sir.” She swallowed hard.

“Are you or are you not, solider? The gymnastics program at Sandhurst’s not the best in the realm. There are other, more worthy, programs with superior coaching. Are you sure you’re in the right place, solider?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Yes what, solider?”

“Sir! I belong in Sandhurst. Sir!”

“Why?”

“Because…I am a shieldmaiden, sir. I want to serve my country, sir! To be the best, sir!”

Dagny assumed an officious position with her hands folded behind her. “It’s a hard school, solider. There’s no shame in being washed out since so few have the nerve to apply in the first place, much less being appointed to it. You still have three years left to complete your career elsewhere. Anything can happen then.”

“I’ll complete it, sir!”

“You’re confident, solider?”

“It’s my will. Sir.”

Dagny looked back at Torunn. “Step out, solider.”

The cadet made a smart step and stood at attention with a face full of nerves. Dagny paced slow about the little woman who could only reach her shoulder. She observed the make and the neatness of her Guard uniform and tested one of her buttons to find it fastidious and well-shined. She felt the muscles under the arm sleeves and found them strong. She tested the tightness of her duty corset and found it snug. She paced around her once more as the girl’s mouth worked with anxiety. “How old are you, solider?”

She swallowed hard. “Fifteen of age, and going on sixteen. Sir.”

“Aren’t you a bit young to be in the Queen’s Guard, solider?”

She opened her mouth and closed it before opening again, “Yes, sir. No, sir. I believe that my youth can be an asset and I mean to prove it, sir!”

“The Queen’s Guard’s an enviable post. Precious few could hope for an appointment. How is that you are here, solider?”

“I…I volunteered, sir.”

“Volunteer? You think this a simple matter, solider?”

 “No, sir!”

“And what gives you the right to ‘volunteer’, solider?”

She opened her mouth, closed it, and then she asked, “Permission to speak, sir?”

“Spit it out, solider.”

“It was you. Sir.”

She shot a look at her earnest face, then at Torunn. “Explain yourself, solider.”

“I read about you in the Sandhurst annual history, sir. If I may be free,” she directed her wide eyes at her, “I’d like to say that you have an enviable record at Sandhurst. Sir.”

The girl’s frank admiring look left Dagny uneasy. “Ah-ahem-my record’s not that enviable. In truth, I barely made it by the skin of my teeth, solider.”

“But the book said you had high marks.”

“The books do tend to romanticize things a bit, solider.”

“But the books, they said the marvelous things about you – ”

“ – are quite exaggerative, I’m afraid. Solider, intelligence is of a vital importance. You must take every step to verify them with utter effort and personally. A battle’s fortunes can turn on a single punctuation, on the slightest of misunderstanding. Do you understand, cadet?”

She deflated, “Understood, sir.”

She pressed, “You want to be a shieldmaiden, to serve your Queen and country. I commend you. It does project a rather glamorous allure. But I must warn you that to be a shieldmaiden is to embark on a hard, rough, and brutal path of much gore and pain. What notion you have of a civilized warfare you must put it out of your mind forthright. Such restraint is found only between the Germanic nations and their close cousins. Outside, war is a barbaric affair of gross torture, mindless rapine, and animalistic pleasure in mutilation and death irrespective of one’s status or age. Dogs and cats are slaughtered for sport, not even for food. Some victims even set themselves on fire to escape his tormentors much to their lusty laughter. I speak from experience dearly brought.

Even if you have a brighter fate, the tribulations of the path will sorely test your mind, spirit, and limbs, much in the ways ignored by the naive. Very few, precious few, of our sex have the strength to meet the appointed tasks of our path. You may have mastered the four years of Sandhurst but the testing will only increase in the ineluctable strength designed to shift chaff from grains, the better to simulate the battle conditions. They’ll try, but I must be frank with you. No matter their earnest efforts, few of us will have the strength to become perfectly brutal to our girls, much less to our boys. Our love limits the effectivity of our lessons. Instead, the children must discover the truth for themselves.

The fact remains that, even with our generous nature, most girls of your class will not make it. Nor all boys, but more will see through. It is a somber fact that the nature of our sex inclines us to a softer and milder task and to be enveloped within a gentler protection by our kin and menfolk alike. Our nation’s survival depends on our successful breeding and nurturing of our true replacements. Our children will feel a deep bond to our fathers and will strike to carry on our fathers’ work unto the thousand generations, a drive unknowable to those not our kin. There is no shame in making a stout attempt and fail. A very few would even dare. If this be your fate then wear your valiant failure with a quiet pride. Do you understand, cadet?”

She grew thoughtful. “Understood, sir. Sir? I want to try.”

Dagny looked at her, “Carry on, solider.”

She stepped back to survey the guard. “Girls, I must commend all of you for your splendid attention to your duty. I have never found a smarter set. Carry on with my prayers. For Gods and Queen.”

“For Gods and Queen!”

Dagny and Torunn walked away a bit. “Ambitious, isn’t she?”

“Bell’s a natural,” she smiled her lopsided smile.

“She’s that good?”

“That.”

“Being a shieldmaiden seems unworthy of her ability, Captain.”

“Oh, her hearts’ set on this, this Bell. Dagny, you fascinated her, though she tried to hide it.”

She scoffed, “Truly, I am nothing special. I merely did my duty and nothing more.”

“Dagny Mark, you can’t fool an old captain.”

“Mere luck for an utterly reckless fool.”

“Be stubborn then, child. My faith’s not misplaced.”

As Dagny opened her mouth, a servant interrupted them. “Captain Buckywood, the Queen requested the pleasure of Commander Mark.”

Dagny looked at Torunn who nodded her encouragement. She breathed deep and straightened her uniform. She nudged Bernard’s ear and then followed out.

She followed him to the rear of the manor and she realized that the Queen would be in her favorite place, the conservatory. She stepped through the double doors which shut behind her. She looked around at the englassed room full of spiky green plants and tall potted trees. There seemed to be more plants than she remembered. She looked around, touching the glossy feel of leaves as she walked about.

There.

The Queen was standing with her back to Dagny at one of the hung tapestries of great age on the rough stone wall. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath again. In silence she approached her, observing the elegant line of her neck exposed by her rolled-up bun of hair. It was as pale as she had remembered. She stopped at a proper distance and looked at the subject of the Queen’s interest. “King Arthur,” she said.

Queen Victoria continued to study the tapestry. “Yes,” she answered, “my renowned ancestor. My kin. See the shield above his head?”

She looked. “The red dragon of Demeter.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“His wives?”

“Yes, Guinevere and Morgana. Look how happy they are, coyly covering their swollen bellies with a fold of their dresses. To be pregnant with powerful sons for their beloved. A promise of a happy future for the kingdom.”

“I don’t see Princess Elaine, Your Majesty.”

“Not on this tapestry, no. Look at the king. Owain Ddantgwyn, the king of Powys. They called him the Bear. Artorius to the Romans. Virile. Rosy with good blood. War captain of all Britons against the Saxons. He fought against Cedric, you know? At the Battle of Mont Badon, with the other Saxon captains. For three days and three nights, before the Saxons sued for peace. Cedric of Wessex was a half-blood, a Briton and a Saxon. His descendant Egbert united his father’s blood with Arthur’s. The result was glorious. Wessex became the ruling kingdom over the four surviving English kingdoms. England became strong because our blood was strong. For years, we ruled the sky and the sea with dragons and ships.” She looked down at her hands, “Now, I fear that the strength of my blood has faded. A poison has entered my veins. A curse stalks my house.”

“You have the strength still. All of England prayed for you, our altars drunk daily the blood of holy sacrifices for your family’s well being. Your blood came from Woden and Aphrodite themselves.” She dared to step closer. “Your cheeks and your bosom, they blush still with health,” she continued, her voice becoming almost a whisper.

Victoria bowed her head with a small and wry smile, “Still leading with a honeyed tongue?”

She stepped closer. “You have m-our love, Your Majesty. We long and hope for the recovery of your family, for your lasting happiness.”

She turned and fixed her deep-lidded blue eyes on her, “Commander.”

“Your Majesty,” she bowed.

Another strange smile. “So proper. So true to form.”

“Your Majesty.”

She turned away and walked to a little glassed table as Dagny followed. As she poured herself a cup of steaming tea, she asked, “How do you find your newfound rank?”

“With some discomfort and with pride, Your Majesty.”

“Typical.” She dropped some sugar cubes. The spoon’s slow turnings made gentle tinkling music. Dagny swallowed as she watched. The Queen replaced her spoon and blew on her cup as she wandered to the plants. She followed her as she watched her feeling the sleek leaves with a cool affection. “What think you of our plants?”

“They bloomed well, Your Majesty. It’s a good season. The Gods have blessed your house well.”

Victoria picked up a small spray bottle. “Do they?”

She hesitated and the Queen smiled a small smile at her. She returned her attention to the plants. “They do grow well, don’t they? You needn’t answer that.” She replaced her water bottle. “Millions of years they struggled to survive, to evolve, to fill every nook and hole of this world, until…a perfection of form. An unseen imperative moved them. To propagate. To dominate. Divine Zoe pulses through their green veins, ever seeking Helios’s light and Gaia’s warmth. Their seeds move with the winds and the bees ‘til all of earth’s dressed in greenery, wild and ever fruitful. Admirable, wouldn’t you say, my dear?”

She felt her heart lunge and forced herself to remain composed. “Apt poetry and truthful, my-Your Majesty.”

The Queen’s hard blue eyes fell on her. “Come with us.”

They returned to the glassed table near the tapestry. Next to the teapot rested a tape player of some age and a set of tapes. The Queen set down her teacup and plucked a tape. Dagny grew puzzled. The Queen gave her a meaningful glance before sliding the tape into a popped-up lid. The lid was snapped shut and a lever depressed. The tape whirred fast as it rewound. It stopped with a loud snap. She pressed STOP and then PLAY. The eyes of the tape began to roll in a stately manner. A slight and warm crackle emitted as the magnetic tongue licked the thin plastic film.

Dagny inched closer, her ears turned to its dusty speaker.

The tape continued to swark and crackle for a moment. Then…

A female voice groaned. “My lord. My lord.”

Dagny leaned closer to the speaker.

A sharp gasp. “Take me, my holy sire. Ma-make me thy instrument of truth, O mighty Apollo.” She shot a look at the impassive Queen. The voice groaned and sighed in relief. Silence ensued amid the crackles of the dusty tape.

Dagny frowned. Was that all?

Then her voice spoke again and she felt every hair on her neck rose. It was her voice and not her voice. It was deeper, more masculine. “Hear me, O man, and know that I, Apollo, the vicar of Father Zeus speaks! Hear me, O men, and listen well for a word has come forth from mine Father, the Thunderer is He. Flee thou from thy nest, O men, and seek ye the stars. Penetrate the void and scatter thou thy mother’s seeds far and wide upon the worlds now dead. Go, O men, and people thee the alien lands on high and till the soil made bloom by holy Persephone of the hallowed Mysteries. Let the fresh trees shade the swift-footed prey of mine Sister under the strange stars. Let mine Brother’s vines be crushed anew under the weird moons. Let Zeus thunder and his command be completed to the fullest this very day.”

Then the Oracle shivered loudly on the tape and fell silent. The tape rolled as the feet raced with alarm. Men’s voice filled the space. “Oracle? Oracle?! Are you alright? Get a doctor!”

The Queen pressed STOP.

“Great Gods above and below,” Dagny whispered.

“You know what she spoke of?”

“The Seedbearer Imperative.”

“You remember your facts well.”

Dagny felt confused. Why was she summoned? Why the tape? Then it dawned on her. “Your Majesty, I am utterly unqualified.”

“You were a good student at Sandhurst.”

She uttered a sharp scoff. “I was a dreadful student. You flatter me, Your Majesty.”

“You have the respect of your men and of your professors. I was there. I have seen the reports.”

“Hard won. Sire, I am in the Army. I have no experience with astro-operations.”

“But you did train for this theater.”

“Cross-training. Sandhurst required us to minor in a different field for our professional staff were always limited in manpower. ‘The razor-edge of England’s spear’, remember? That was us, Vic-I mean Your Majesty. Truly, I had no expectation of using it. That was years ago. Send another man in my steed, I ask of you. A more worthy man. An experienced voidman.”

“But they lack your drive, Dagny Mark. No one has done the things you did. The eyes of England are on you, and of the Gods. I want you to take the command. We want you to take the command.”

She shook her head, “I am no god, not even a demigod. Luck, it was all just pure, dumb luck for I was possessed of some madness that day, Your Majesty. I have no idea what came over me. Sire, I am not worthy, not worthy of all the adulation showered on me since that day.”

“Do not underestimate yourself, Dagny Mark! I’ve seen what you can do. We’ve seen what happened to you. Cease those lies, solider! Your false humility impressed us not.”

“Not lies, Sire, but an honest truth.”

“Truth?” She snatched a file from the table. “We have seen your records. Remarkable chain of events. High praise for your skillful zeal and the quickness of your mind. You excited devotion from men stouter than you. You!” The Queen halted and breathed hard as she reconsidered her planned word.

She snatched a blank envelope and faced the shieldmaiden with an icy pair of eyes. “This is your orders. By our command, you are to take charge of our new voidship Damona. You are to bring her to completion and to outfit her with a suitable crew for her mission. You are charged to venture into the void to seek out the means to access the stars now closed to us. Do this and we can fulfill the Seedbearer Imperative and begin our seeding of the virgin worlds.”

Dagny stood still and pointed to herself, “Me? Damona?”

“What do you know of Damona?”

“From what I could surmise, it’s England’s first true voidship, built for the deep space missions instead of intrasystem transportation. A self-contained mechanical world fitted for years-long exploration.”

“Decades. Since Zeus handed down his Seedbearer Imperative years ago, we have invested our resources into the design and construction of Damona. So have other great powers. But we are the most advanced. England means to be the first to the stars. England shall have the enviable glory of penetrating the secrets of the universe and to asset her domination of endless worlds. And you shall lead our rough and valiant men there.”

“But how? How, Your Majesty? We’ve barely breached the secrets of a few planets within our own system. We have not even ventured to Saturn short of a few mapping probes. We know not of the regions beyond Pluto. Then the unspeakable dangers of the Heliowake.”

“You seem to have learned something other of than the fighting sticks.”

“A little snap of a whip does sharpen one’s memory.”

“What do you know of the Heliowake, Commander.”

Dagny considered the question, recalling her long-ago lessons. “The Heliowake. The void is not static, Your Majesty. The stately peace of the night sky is deceiving. Instead, it is a swirling, tumbling complex of matter and energy filling the vast emptiness that is not truly empty. It is full of secret forces, thrilling dangers and hidden planets that do wander the sky as befitting their names. Between the stars ranged vast clouds of radiation, some mild, some horrible. Our galaxy is pulled along by some mysterious force into a great spin about an entity that some natural philosophers termed the Black Hole, the destroyer and maker of life and form. Like the Titan Kronos, it consumes its children who venture too close, and yet it ordered the stars and made possible our lives upon this gentle earth at an appropriate distance. Since our Sunna joined her luminous sisters in an orbit of unimaginable vastness and time, she will cross paths with many and unknown dangers sure to strip our atoms into deadly disorder and to end life itself. But the Gods have blessed us with a certain protection. Sunna emitted a great force of magnetic intensity that enveloped her tiny children like a hen with her wings. Within her egg-shaped shield we thrive even as we hurried through the irradiated storms as if on a ship. This shield thrust aside the charged dust to create a wake, hence the Heliowake, a wall-like zone of charged poison about our system. It would be mad to attempt such a crossing without knowing its many dangers.”

Victoria smiled a genuine smile, “You have been listening, Dagny. You are not such a bad student as you often claimed.”

“I..” she shrugged, “…had a little help.”

“Yes, she was a great help to you. Whatever happened to her, I have often wondered.”

“She had her own path to thread. Fate.”

“Then leave our beloved island and penetrate the great wake without harm, then break a path to the stars with our royal standard hoisted tall and proud upon the alien soil.”

She shook her head. “I fear that fame has outpaced my ability. The task is vast, Your Majesty, and full of uncertainties. There is much that we do not know, too much. I fear that this may lead our men to their early doom and for little profit. No, Sire, it’s too rash. I must advise a more measured approach.”

“No. Let us be bold. Zeus willed this. We cannot fail.”

“I must think of my men’s well-being.”

“‘My’? You intend to take the command then?”

“If I take the command, Your Majesty. If I take the command.”

“You will take the command. It’s our will that you do this. We will entertain no others.”

“There are others worthier than I.”

“No!” Victoria’s nose flared. “You will take the command, least we bind you in chain to the ship! We have showered much grace and honors on you and this is how you repay us?”

“I intend no insults, nor to cross you. I merely urge you onto a wiser course. You need not prove your strength, Sire. You are the head of the most powerful kingdom. You have scored a great victory. You have the love and devotion of all your subjects.”

“If you love m-,” the Queen nearly erupted before reconsidering her words. She turned her back on Dagny and spoke again in an icier tone, “If we have your devotion, you would accept our offer with glad hands.”

“My p-,” Dagny stopped with a frustrated sigh. “My life and my sword I pledge to you, forever.”

“A rather short forever.”

Dagny wanted to retort but controlled herself, “This may very well happen on this mission.”

The Queen measured out her words, “Our boys will succeed, for this is the will of Zeus.” She looked over her shoulder, “And success they will have in your person. That is our will. You aim to disappoint us?” She looked away.

She opened her mouth in anxious thought. With slow steps, she approached her back, turning thoughts over to find the right words to say, the perfect words to appeal, the perfect words to set things right. She stopped behind her and breathed deep. “My…Sire, I…I have hopes. I-,” She looked at the unresponsive back as the Queen stood like a statue. She sighed and moved closer. She whispered, “A day…has not passed…without earnest prayers on my lips. Is there…” She looked at her head and thought how pretty her hair was. “Is there not a hope…”

A door busted open behind them. “Your Majesty!” a girl’s voice cried.

Startled, their eyes shot back to the racing form of Gwenevere Bell who fell to her knee before the Queen. Breathless, she spoke rapid words that ran together, “Your Majesty, I humbly beg of you! Oh, please, please, Your Majesty, I beg of you, assign me to Damona. If I have found favor in your eyes then grant me the happiness of having the honor of serving you on Damona! I won’t disappoint you, Sire. I won’t! I know I can serve you well, I know I can, Sire! I-,”

“Enough!” cried livid Dagny. “Mind your manners in her august presence! Now, get out before I lose my temper!”

Gwenevere paled and made to rise in deep shame when the Queen stopped her with a gesture. “Wait!”

The girl halted, fearful of some unknown wrath to suffer.

Victoria approached her and smiled. “You are of our Guard, aren’t you?”

She swallowed and nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty. I…,” she eyed Dagny’s smoldering eyes and swallowed, ”…I bear your sacred sword, Sire.”

“Gwenevere Bell, isn’t it?”

 Gwen shot a nervous look at darkening Dagny. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Your enthusiasm interests us.”

Dagny hurried to protest, “Your Majesty, she is a mere child.”

The Queen locked her eyes on the cadet and smiled. “She reminds me of a certain someone I used to know, Commander.”

Dagny felt as if she was punched in her gut. She fell silent.

“Yes. Arise, child.” She returned to the table and took out a sheet of paper. Dagny’s heart stank. Gwenevere stood up, uncertainty dancing in her bright eyes. The pen clicked against the mouth of its ink bottle. Then she stood up to inspect her writing, wax-stamped it with her ring, and folded it. “Here, child. A letter of service from the Crown. You are to be posted to Damona. We are sure you will prove to be an asset to us.”

Gwenevere gasped in relief as her face shone into luminous delight. Then her face fell when she met Dagny’s cold glare. She stiffened to attention.

The shieldmaiden sighed. Her first words were curt, “Cadet Bell. Pack. One hour. Do not tarry.”

Her voice was mouse-like, “Sir. Yes, sir.” She raced off, her footsteps echoing in the hall.

Victoria smiled, “What a spirited child.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” She looked at her, “My…” She swallowed. “My Queen?”

She didn’t look back.

Dagny eyed the floor and then her hand at her side. She reached for her hand with a slow caution.

“You have your orders, Commander.”

She froze. She pulled her hand back and looked down at the table, at the envelope sitting by the tape player. Her hand slid toward it and dragged it to her. She glanced down at it.

She clicked her heels and saluted her, “By your leave, Your Majesty.” She spun and walked out smart. At the doors, she turned to close them and paused.

She looked at the Queen with a desperate longing. She did not look back. Instead, she was studying the tapestry of King Arthur.

Dagny breathed a deep sigh and shut the doors with a quiet click.

She stood at the shut doors and bowed her head. She debated with herself as she stared at the doorknobs. Her uncertain hand reached out to them. Should she?

Her hand hovered, then it made a fist. She jerked her hand away in frustration. She spun about and walked a bit. She halted and looked back in expectation and despair. She wanted to. But…

“Damn it to Hel,” she whispered and walked away.