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Hope

  The Prophecy #13

  By John Stevenson

  Copyright 2010 John Stevenson

  Victoria’s body was far from normal as Harriet’s life support began a soft alternating beep. “The machine is waking her,” she said putting the cup of electrolyte solution down, and slowly standing. The nausea had gone; but she still felt weak: quite understandable, she thought, considering that during the last hour her entire blood supply had been recycled through the machine several times.

  She took the few steps to stand beside Malcome as the lights began to fade to a pale blue. “A signal is being sent to her brain, to rouse her,” she said quietly as she leaned over and looked inside the canopy; her fingers tingled as she touched the cover. Beneath she could see colour had returned to Harriet’s face. Then the girl’s eyes opened, Victoria was expecting it, but it happened so suddenly that it was still unnerving. She noticed Bertram step back self-consciously. “She can’t see us; inside it is pitch black to her.”

  The alternating tone became continuous, and then stopped.

  “It’s best if we step back,” she said. “The cover will open now and it may be a little disconcerting for her to have us appear too close.”

  There was a hiss, and the lid folded back so fast that none of them saw it withdraw.

  Harriet’s head moved sideways a little, and she seemed to gaze past them.

  Malcome looked anxiously at Victoria; she returned a look of calm.

  Harriet’s head rolled over onto the side and she looked directly at Malcome. “Nicholas?” She said barely louder than a whisper.

  “No it is Malcome your majesty,” he said in such a nervous voice that it almost made Victoria laugh.

  “Malcome?” Harriet repeated.

  “Yes your majesty…. Malcome.”

  Harriet’s voice was becoming stronger “Do I?”

  “I am your physician, your majesty.” He said the words bursting with pride.

  “Where…”

  Malcome looked at Victoria for support.

  “You’re safe Harriet,” she said tenderly.

  Her words were slow. “Do I know you?”

  “No.”

  Suddenly Harriet’s eyes widened and she jerked herself up into a sitting position so fast that the sheet covering her fell away. “Where’s Nicholas,” she said in dread. Victoria looked in amusement at how both men spun quickly around to face the wall.

  “He is being looked after,” said Victoria as she stepped up besides the girl, covering her nakedness, and helping her into a sitting position on the edge of the cot.

  “He is all right?” Harriet said again, fearfully.

  “That last I heard of him, he was in the best of health.”

  The girl’s relief was visible. “The rebellion,” her words were rapid. “Did… What has happened?”

  Victoria didn’t want to tell her the truth. “We are confident all will be well.”

  Harriet looked quizzically at Victoria. “Who are you?”

  “I am Victoria.”

  “Do I know you?”

  Both Victoria and Bertram spoke together. She said, “Nurse;” and he said. “She is a member of your family… your majesty.”

  “Bertram?” Harriet recognized the voice

  “It is I your Majesty,” he said, still speaking to the wall.

  “Is that you Bertram, turn around.”

  Reluctantly he turned, but stayed back by the wall.

  “Bertram who are these people?”

  “That’s… Victoria,” he said pointing to Victoria. “She’s…. “.

  “A nurse,” said Victoria firmly.

  “And that one there…” He said pointing to Malcome “Is Malcome, he is your Physician, your majesty.”

  “What’s wrong with you Bertram?” Harriet was completely bewildered at his attitude.

  “Nothing your majesty, were just very pleased to see your injuries gone.”

  Harriet tipped her head to look at her shoulder, and her hand came up to touch her silky skin. For several moments she touched, and probed her side, then she looked up at Malcome. “What have you done?” Her words were uttered in amazement. “What happened to the wound? How…. How can I still be alive?”

  Malcome moved uneasily from foot to foot. He wanted to, but was reluctant to say any of it was his doing. “My nurse,” he said at last. “Has far greater knowledge than that name gives her credit for your majesty.”

  At last Harriet’s mind made sense of both men’s deference to Victoria and her eyes settled firmly on her.

  Victoria felt a shiver go down her spine; through the mists of time she saw Rhea looking back at her.

  Harriet stared at Victoria making the woman swallow deeply. “You are the one who can tell me what is going on,” she said in an almost demanding tone.

  Victoria took another deep breath and glanced at the men. “At this moment, and at this time, I suppose I can, but there is more to tell than time to tell it.”

  “Then an outline: especially…” Harriet said in an even more demanding tone. “…Why are you all behaving like you are?”

  Victoria’s face became serious. “What do you remember?”

  “I remember the blade.” Harriet said, her eyes showing the recollection of pain. “Then everything went black. Then I was lying down and Nicholas was holding my hand. I felt warm and safe. He said he loved…” Her words trailed away in awkwardness, it was a moment she didn’t want to share. “After that I was sleeping. There was mist and people kept walking in and out…” Her eyes opened wide again. “Someone…” She looked up at Malcome. “Said I’m sorry, but she is dead?”

  Malcolm’s face screwed up in mortification

  She looked back at Victoria. “I was dead; wasn’t I?” Her voice was shocked.

  “No,” said Victoria firmly. “You were as close as anyone can get to it; but you were not dead.”

  “Then why did he say that?” Tears were forming in the corner of her eyes

  “I can explain but now I… “

  “Please forgive me majesty,” said Malcome interrupting Victoria as he fell to his knees besides them. “I did all I could your majesty.” He almost sobbed.

  She turned to Victoria. “Why do they keep saying that?” Tears were now running over her cheeks.

  “Enough,” snapped Victoria so firmly that the room fell silent.

  “You two,” she glared at Malcome and Bertram. “Go to the galley and Isla will,” she said looking up into the air. “…And Isla will instruct you how to prepare a meal for us all…” She returned her glare to the men. “Down the corridor second left… Go.”

  They almost ran from the room

  She turned back to Harriet. “Right young lady,” her voice lost the hardness, but retaining the authority. “You have had a traumatic time, and you will have more; far more than you would choose. As Malcome was trying to say he did do his best, but what saved you was a technology that is impossible for me to explain in a few minutes: suffice to say that in those moments that Nicholas.” Victoria looked knowingly at Harriet. “…Thought he had lost you, and opened his heart. He gave you his ring.”

  They both looked at Harriet’s fingers.

  “The ring was the only possession he has of his mother.” Victoria tenderly took the girls wrist, and lifted it up between them.

  “This is Nicholas’s ring?” said Harriet emotionally.

  “No,” Victoria contradicted. “It is your ring.”

  Harriet looked down. The small stone was afire with colour. “No. It is…beautiful, but it is not mine.”

  “You may not know it, but it is your ring.”

  “No, it is his mother's; he said it was his only keepsake.”

  “But before that: many years ago there was a ro
yal family called the Davanoff’s. I know this is true because I am one of them, and I have seen this ring before…”

  “Royal… You’re a princess?”

  Victoria’s mouth opened, but no words came out for seconds. She shrugged a little. “I never considered I was, but yes, I was a princess, … I suppose I still am.” She began to giggle. “I’m Sorry, but it’s been so long since I thought, never mind spoke that word, that I…” She saw the look on the girls face. “And don’t you start calling me your majesty, like the others.”

  “Then why are they calling me that, if you are the princess?”

  Victoria sighed. “It was as much a surprise to me, that when the equipment used to treat you; examined your genome ... Don’t ask what that is either, it’s far too difficult to explain. Anyway yours is...” Victoria hesitated. “Is the same as mine; that means that you and I are related “.

  Harriet’s mouth had sagged open.

  “I expect if we could trace the line back, you will be the descendant of one of my siblings. So Harriet, if I am a princess then you are the queen.”

  Once the Warrior had settled, Nicholas stepped down the ramp: stopped, and then stared back. “This is beyond my wildest dream?” He said in awe. “When Colen spoke of such a... a machine I took his words with barely any credibility; even when I saw