The Baroness of Surli (2)

 2 

Samh 11.27.1344

(Seven months earlier)

Talrederick could feel the blood flowing through his fingers as he tried to cover the wound on his stomach. His ears were ringing from the percussion mine that had exploded near him, flinging phosphorus fire and shrapnel everywhere. A medic ran over and pulled his hands from the injury, slapping a liquidaid on his wound. The liquidaid kept the blood from leaving his body but pressed the pieces of shrapnel into it deeper, causing him to moan in pain.

“Hold on, we have a flyer coming in for you,” the medic said as he flung him over his shoulder and carried him back from the fray. He only made a few steps before he was shot in the back, and they both went flying. As Talrederick landed, his head hit the metal armor of a fallen soldier, and he graciously lost consciousness.

* * * * * *

When Talrederick awoke, the light was so bright, he first thought he had died. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen appeared. Her dark golden hair was woven into a braid that formed a halo around the top of her head. Her brown eyes seemed filled with wisdom beyond her years. Her flawless pale skin, thin nose, and heart-shaped face radiated concern. He decided she must have been an angel.

“Oh, you’re awake! I’ll get the doctor,” she said, but before she could leave, he grabbed her wrist.

“Please don’t leave me, angel,” he said. 

* * * * * *

Juliabella, Baronness of Surli, was slightly surprised by the strength of the patient. His face was covered in bandages, but his deep blue eyes peered out from them, pleading. He had been in a coma for several weeks, and she knew the doctors had not expected him to survive. 

“Please,” he asked again. His grip loosened and his thumb began rubbing her inner wrist. The feeling made her uncomfortable.

She had lost her husband, Eloscar, Baron of Surli, at the beginning of the war. She lived in Jibialand, and its Count had grown old and fat. He was not the best of military leaders. Although she tried not to blame him for her husband’s death, she knew his tactics had been somewhat responsible. He, too, had perished in battle. His son, however, was much better at the war with Xiepvu. After that rough first year, their country had lost fewer soldiers—although he still was not as good at his job as the Counts of Anorraq or Dathuane, or Emperor Grangschmidt, and the Jibialand War Infirmary was frequently filled to its maximum capacity. 

She had volunteered for the nursing corps after her husband died because she also felt guilt over his death. Their marriage had been arranged when she was only 17. Although she had two beautiful daughters on whom she had doted, she had never felt love for him. She accepted him and performed her wifely duties, but it had been more as if two people were living in the same house together instead of what all the fairy tales made marriage out to be. She often wondered if the society in which she lived would ever grow as enlightened as their ancestors of old who lived on a faraway planet called Earth and at one point had stopped having arranged marriages.

It was perhaps for this reason the patient gently rubbing her wrist made her so uncomfortable. Not only was it inappropriate, but it also stirred up feelings inside her that no touch of her husband ever had. 

“Please stop,” she said as firmly as she could.

“Stop what, mon ange?” 

“Patients should not touch volunteers,” she said pulling her wrist away.

“Oh, désolé,” he said, not trying to touch her again. “I thought I was in heaven. I should have known I was not good enough to make it there.” 

“You are at the Jibialand War Infirmary. You were found among the dead on the battlefield. Your ID tags must have been destroyed when you were injured. Someone put a liquidaid on you before you had lost much blood. Without that, you would be dead.” 

When she noticed he seemed to be struggling to remember what had happened, she cautioned, “Don’t think too hard. You just woke up. I am sure your memory will come back in time. Now, I really must go get the doctor.”

“Whatever you desire.” 

She looked at him for a minute trying to determine if this patient was flirting with her or teasing her before she hurried out of the room.

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