Chapter Three: The Charming Colonel

"It's not his name!" Anna said to the hospital clerk as she sat across his desk littered with stacks of papers. As soon as she recognized her former fiance, Anna marched off to the hospital administrator's office to check if they made an identity mix-up.

The clerk didn't exactly appreciate being disturbed, especially at this time of night when he was about to pack up for the day. However, Anna had pulled the princess card and he begrudgingly opened drawers to draw out a file for her. It now lay open before her on the desk. One look into it and Anna's protest went into full force.

"I'm telling you, that's not the man you have," Anna insisted. "It must be a mistake."

"Princess Anna, please," the man pleaded as he pointed to the open folder on the desk. "The file is clear. That man in room 409 was conscripted under the name Johannes Kristian Jorgenbjorgen since 1808. This is a copy of his original medical exam. He was sent to this hospital before during a previous campaign. He was shot twice and nearly bled to death. The scars on his chest are consistent with the ones we have on file when we treated him four years ago."

Anna bristled with frustration as this information sank in. "Then he lied on his form from the start!" she exclaimed. Her mind was a swirl of emotions. She never expected to find Hans here. She had been thinking about him since that soldier Lundt passed away before her. She prayed for the peace of Hans' soul nightly. She was so certain that Lundt's death was some kind of cosmic signal that told her Hans was dead too. It was quite a shock to see him alive and even more so to learn that he was assuming a false name. Her pity of him quickly melted and her old suspicions returned in full force.

Why was he using a fake name? Anna thought. Did he do it because he was trying to redeem himself so no one would know of his former crime? Maybe he still harbored plans to take over some other kingdom by marrying some unsuspecting girl in the future after the war is over and he becomes a hero. Or maybe—and this was something gruesome—he killed the real Jorgenbjorgen and assumed the man's identity?

Whatever it was, Anna felt it her duty not to let him get away with it.

"I want to talk to him," she declared.

The clerk sighed. "You are most welcome to speak to him when he wakes up. However, I must insist you do not alarm him too much. He's in a delicate condition. Former criminal or not, he is still a patient and he has a right to proper treatment."

"That's perfectly fine," Anna agreed and took her leave with her friend following behind her.

"Okay calm down," Fria said when they were alone back in the corridor.

"I'm calm," Anna reassured her. "But I have to take care of this. Tonight."

"Are you sure about that?" her friend asked as she fought to hide a yawn. "Maybe we could just go back tomorrow. Get some sleep first."

Anna no longer had any inclination for sleep. This was a mystery she needed to solve and she can't rest until she at least spoke another word with Hans. "You go home. I'll stay."

"Are you sure about this?" her friend asked in a concerned manner that again reminded Anna of Elsa when she was in her motherly moods.

"I'm good Fria. It's just something I need to do."

Fria finally relented. "Okay, but promise you get back before midnight."

"I will," Anna vowed.

They parted at a junction on the corridor with Anna taking the path that headed back to the pneumonia ward. She found Hans still asleep. However, the man in the bed across him was already awake and he lifted a weak hand to her in an obvious request for assistance. Anna quickly came over to the man's side. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked.

"Pillow please?" the man said hoarsely in French before he had a fit of coughing. Anna complied and adjusted the pillow for the man. She figured he was also thirsty so she poured him a glass of water from a nearby pitcher which eased his coughing.

"Thank you so much. That posture was just killing me," the man said pleasantly after he had sipped the water.

"My pleasure Mr...?"

"Commandant Victor Cloutier, at your service ma'am," he said gallantly. He was about in his late forties, with thick dark hair and a pale but pleasant face. From his name and accent, Anna immediately knew he was French."

"Mrs. Anna Bjorgman, it's great to meet you." She offered her hand for him to shake. The soldier took it gratefully and immediately launched into a long tale on his background. Anna stayed on to listen as she had nothing to do until Hans woke up. Commandant Cloutier was pleasant enough company and had a lot of stories to tell. As a French officer, he was able to get close enough to Emperor Napoleon to know some rather interesting anecdotes that any historian would probably want to tell in some future history book. However, he had few encounters with the men from the regions surrounding Arendelle and proved no help on any news on Kristoff.

As dinnertime rolled by, Anna stayed on, taking her meal with him, while she spoon-fed him soup.

"I feel so special, my pretty Anna had stayed," he said coquettishly when dinner was over. Anna was rather used to the soldiers flirting with her. The French officers, in particular, loved to tease the female nurses and Anna's fiery colored head usually caught their attention. She probably would have been flattered had she still been the naive isolated 18-year-old who longed for a first love. The man on the opposite bed had certainly taught her a lot about men's empty praises. She glowered into Hans' direction at the memory.

"Hmmm, but I sense you're not exactly here for me, are you?"

"I'm sorry?" Anna turned back to the French officer and realized he was still talking.

The man responded with a laugh and pointed to Hans. "You have been staring at him all night," he laughed heartily. "Ahhh... that man can still attract the ladies even when he's half-dead."

"Do you know him?" Anna asked.

"Colonel Jorgenbjorgen? I was with him in the long hours on the road from the field hospital. Didn't have much chance to talk as I was asleep half the time with that blessed laudanum they gave me. However, I knew him by reputation. Brave man. The men I spoke to said he held off a Cossack attack in Kaluga that saved two of our regiments. We were attacked in the night and I was among the wounded. The men in my regiment said he selected the most able fighters and led the charge with just swords. We didn't have any bullets left so the pistols were useless by then. He gave our company time to evacuate and it saved many lives, including mine. He and the men that defended us caught up to our new our camp six hours later. I saw him briefly when he came in. He was covered in blood, most of it probably his own, but his first concern was to ask for medical assistance for the men under him."

Anna kept silent as she listened to the tale. She didn't doubt Hans' aggression. She had seen how comfortable he wielded a sword but she could not understand how he would even bother being concerned for others' welfare over his own.

"Even before that night, I've been hearing stories about him from the other officers. He was said to have been in several naval battles in the French colonies in the Carribbean. The Emperor himself was quite impressed by his abilities and had awarded him for the capture of several British ships. During this campaign, I kept hearing how he fought bravely and was instrumental in the capture of Smolensk in August. I had a friend who witnessed how he kept order in the ranks when the Russians were breaking us up in Borodino. In our occupation of Moscow, he and his organized men managed to save a large cache of food supplies when the fires there raged non-stop for days. He was quite popular among the French officers. They treated him as one of them and he was rumored to be up for promotion to a position of the elite Imperial Guard—a rare thing for he isn't even French. Can speak like one though. His can pull off a Parisian accent like he was born there."

Of course, he could, that slimy chameleon. Hasn't changed a bit, Anna seethed. He blended in and is back on the road to getting power for himself just as I feared. But I'm not about to say anything to Commandant Cloutier about that. Best to keep it in so he can keep talking and I can know more about Hans.

"So I guess he's doing well for himself, huh?" Anna egged on.

"You mean money?" Commandant Cloutier asked. "He doesn't appear to have a fortune apart from what he gets from his military pay, but he does have the manner off a gentleman so I suppose he's had the opportunity for an education. He's probably a younger son with no inheritance he can claim as his own."

You have no idea how right you are, Anna thought.

"I suppose his finances will eventually change if he gets promoted," Commandant Cloutier continued. "A man like that who is impressive to the officers gets to places. He certainly gets around with women. He also earned a reputation even among the camp workers as a charmer." He laughed. "I see you got your eye on him too."

"No, I don't. It's not like that at all," Anna grumbled.

The man gave her a wink. "Yep, that's what the girls at camp say too. In fact they..."

Anna no longer heard the end of what the French officer said for Hans suddenly sat up in a spasm of violent coughs. Anna noticed his eyes were bloodshot and he looked a bit green. She knew from experience what that meant and rushed to his side, grabbing a nearby bucket on the way. She held it out next to him just in time for him to retch into it.

Anna waited for him patiently until his vomiting stopped. She held a glass of water to him when it was over.

"Thank you," he murmured. He appeared too weak to even hold the glass so Anna held it out to him, their fingers touching as she did. He glanced up and caught her gaze, recognition instantly lighting his eyes.

"Anna?" he gasped. "What are you... why are you... you're a princess! What are you doing here?"

She resented that he appeared to judge her from her title, as if being a princess gave her no right to be here. She couldn't stop herself from snapping back at him.

"Well, you're a criminal! I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing here?"

Hans stared at her for a moment before his face looked ill once more. Anna quickly placed the glass aside and held out the bucket for him again.

When his vomiting fit stopped, he feebly looked at her and answered with two words:

"Dying, apparently."