by Power, P. S.
She nodded.
"If that. We may have to take some medicine to a different town. Some kind of plague or fever has hit them. I know that no one wants your justice to be delayed..." What would she say if this was all real?
Thankfully, she didn't have to, since Ben did it for her.
"But lives have to come first, as frustrating as that can sometimes be." There was a nod with it and he started to plunk gently, under their words.
Will looked at her and then Bard Benjamin and struggled a little to sit up. He got it on his own though, which was important, if he had to run off. If you couldn't sit up on your own, then you just weren't going to make it very far, were you?
"The life of one isn't worth the lives of many. I understand that there may be delays. Still, Bard Pran, if you'd do this for me, it would be very helpful. I... These people were my friends, for years. My community. Then, with only a few lies, they all turned on me. So fast. It's like they don't see me as a person at all. I can't be here now. I'd just leave, but the trial." That had to be done, didn't it? He glanced at Bard Ben and looked uneasy after a second. "This Judge, some have a reputation of taking bribes to find people that are innocent guilty... She isn't like that, is she?"
Ben looked shocked, as if the idea had never occurred to him at all. It hadn't to Pran, but she could kind of understand the thought, even if it wasn't true very often. People would believe their friends innocent, and everyone else a liar, if things went bad. Any time a Judge had to rule against a person, someone probably wondered if it were really fair. Unless there was a confession, in public, who would ever know?
Pran shrugged.
"She doesn't have any extra money around that I've seen. She lives simply here and doesn't ask for a lot of extra privileges outside of what her job needs. My guess is that she's honest. Really, my guess is that they almost all are. You don't lie to a Judge and all their coworkers fit that description."
Ben made a funny face.
"They'd be the only ones that could lie to another Judge, don't you think? They have the skills needed to fake the truth, and hide lies. Anyone can be corrupted, if they aren't watched. Who can watch them?" Then he stopped playing and winked at the bed ridden man. "Not that I suspect Claire either. She's a nice woman. Pretty too, don't you think Pran?"
It was a funny thing to say, but she nodded, a bit abstractly.
"Certainly. Not my type, but I hear you and she might be getting closer?"
Bard Benjamin didn't even blush, much less nod. Instead he teased back, tuning his already in tune guitar.
"Oh, like you and Apprentice Roy?" He gave her a sly and slightly naughty look, like anyone on the ship cared about that at all.
So she nodded.
"Exactly like that. Speaking of which, I need to go and see to some things for that. You know, the first rule of improvisation?" It was a thing they all learned in school after all, so Ben got it instantly, even if the man on the bed didn't.
In fact, Ben finished it for her.
"The key to good improvisation is; preparation, preparation, preparation."
"Exactly. So, wish me luck."
That clearly didn't make sense to the other Bard, but Will whispered the words, very seriously.
As if she'd really need it?
Chapter eleven
Pran sort of expected the whole thing with Roy to be awkward and fumbling, but as Tammy the spy had mentioned, he actually wasn't all that bad in bed. Oh, it was true that almost anything that didn't involve being hit or threatened would have been an improvement over what she knew, but he was kind about the whole thing and it was sweet. She hadn't really expected that part at all.
There were kisses involved, and he spent a lot of time just holding her.
When they were done she went back to the shower to clean up, because otherwise it would be a bit gross, though Roy just went to his own cot and fell asleep. It was dim in the hallway, but there were lights, since every second one of the lamps along the wall were burning with a bright white flame. They hissed a bit, the hydrogen gas coming out with slightly different pressures at times. She saw the form in the hallway well enough.
She even worked out who it was from general shape. Zeke.
He waved to her urgently, but didn't say anything. That made sense, being that you never knew who was going to be around in the confines of The Lament. The white walls through this section were oppressive in the dim light and the shadows made the man seem sinister, even though, enemy or not, he'd actually been pretty nice to her so far.
"Oh, Zeke. Hey." She felt dirty, not having washed up yet. She didn't have a lot of water left for it for the day either, and might have to cheat a little, if she wanted to actually feel clean again. It wasn't Roy's fault, but the past kind of soiled everything for her. "I'm going to shower, but it won't take long. I can show you where those footlockers are, so that you can deliver them tomorrow? I won't be around for most of the day, but I'd love to get the woodworking shop cleared out so I can make my instruments." She kept walking, and the man frowned at her, as if he couldn't take a hint or something.
His words gave the lie to that, if a little too slowly to seem natural.
"Oh? That's a plan then. I can wait, I guess. Technically this is free time, but, well, like you said, it's better to be useful, since I don't want to sleep in the cold all winter. This is a good job."
Pran smiled and avoided touching him, moving around the man carefully when they got to the door of the shower room.
"Good, stay here then I'll be five minutes. No peeking." She made that playful enough, she thought, and the man actually managed a decently scandalized look.
"Who, me? I'd never do such a thing. Unless, you know, you left the door open a crack?"
She chuckled but closed the thing tightly and hurried, just hitting the parts of her that needed it worst. It wasn't perfect, but using too much of the warm water was a problem, so she tried to be good about not doing it. When she came out, carrying her towel and soiled clothing, she led him straight to the wood shop, chatting the whole time. Hopefully he'd get the general idea that this was the message to him, and she wouldn't have to whisper it in the dark of the shop.
"In the morning I'm going into town to get Will Butcher's wagon and see about some horses for him. He plans to leave the area as soon as the trial is done. There are some other things too, trading for goods and such, so he can travel. I'll try to get him food and some warm clothing, all that. A bit of food for the horses too, if there's room in the meat wagon. The Captain said I can't put it on the ship, so I'm going to make a little area in the woods, near the road, for the horses. It isn't as good as real shelter, but..." She shrugged. That horses had four legs, she knew. She could even tell you where their main muscles were and what their hooves looked like, having done a stone sculpture of one not too long before. Other than that, she really didn't know what horses needed at all. "I don't have a lot of experience with them. Can you help with that part? I was thinking that giving them some trees to stand under might help. No one will steal them out here, I don't think."
The thin and slightly hard looking man nodded, just a bit slowly, as they walked. Like he was thinking, rather than being lazy.
"I can do that. This isn't ship's business , so it will have to be after I'm done for the day. This Butcher man, the one that likes to touch little girls, do you think he can get off at trial?"
Pran shrugged.
"Really, it doesn't matter. I think it's set for the day after tomorrow, if we don't have to set off and deliver some emergency medicine in the middle of the night. That will delay everything, if it happens. In that case you need to be ready to climb half a mountain I guess. Taking the medicine in will be the big task, and volunteering for it would be useful. You'll want to be the one that the Captain and First Mate think of when things come up. They'll be a lot less likely to set you off in port if you mess up that way."
"Makes sense. I'll stay ready then. Well, come find me when you need me.
I'll get those boxes delivered on time for you. About noon?"
He didn't stop to examine the work, but she explained where the rags were and how he needed to carefully wipe the excess oil off first, and that if he didn't, he'd end up with linseed all over himself. Zeke promised not to let that happen, and took off from there, to the other side of the ship, where his quarters were. Pran had never had a reason to go to that side of things, but assumed it was pretty much like what she and Roy shared.
When she got back into the room, he was already asleep, and the lights were out, which meant she had to climb into bed carefully, without making a vast amount of noise. She was tired, but then, that was a constant thing in her life, so she hadn't noticed it until her eyes closed. It was early still, being just after nine, which meant she actually got a good eight hours of sleep by the time that Roy shook her shoulder.
"Good morning!" He was bright and cheery looking already, so she returned a happy smile. A bleary one though.
"Morning. I'm up. Any word yet on the Hilden thing?" There was no reason that Roy would know in particular, but he shook his head anyway, clearly better informed than she'd been aware of.
"Nothing yet. Bill said that the herb woman there seems to be hoping it will break on its own. Having to call in help like they might is expensive. The government pays for it, but doing things like that too often gets you looked at pretty closely and no one wants that. In these remote areas pretty much everyone cheats on their taxes, and too many reviews will show that. You're going into Pumpkin Hollow today?"
"Yeah. I hope it all works out. They might chase me from the town, screaming and throwing things. I think I'll take the air rifle, just in case. My truncheon too." She meant it, but winked, as if it were also a joke. The people there could be violent, and she was going in to basically help the man that they hated most in the world.
Roy seemed to think it was a good enough idea and leaned toward her, kissing her on the cheek lightly.
"Be careful. I had fun last night. Don't worry, I know that you won't be here long. Airship rules. You know, you have your fun, but don't let yourself get too attached? If we get a chance, I'd love to do it again sometime?"
Pran smiled.
"All right. In a couple of days. I'm slightly sore from what we did. Not a lot of practice, you know?" She wasn't really, but saying that had him smiling a bit as he left. She'd heard enough girls talking about that at the art school to know that it made boys feel perversely manly, knowing that you were sore the next day. At least a tiny bit.
She got an early breakfast, and realized that she had an unusual thing happen then. She didn't have anything to do for a whole two hours or so. She nearly went back to bed, but smiled and pulled her borrowed instruments, to practice. In a few weeks she had an important meeting with High Bard Clarice after all, and not being ready wasn't going to help her at all.
Diligently she ran basic exercises first, and vocal ones as well, then practiced every song she could think of, until it was time to pack things up and leave. No one stopped her, but almost everyone she saw waved or said hello on the way out. Bill, the Second Mate was outside, still awake for some reason, and sipping covertly from a tiny flask that he had hidden inside his jacket. He tried to hide it when she came up, and winced when he realized it wasn't going to work.
"Ah. Bard Pran. I don't suppose I could distract you by needling you about young Roy now, could I? Not with you being a Bard and all."
As distractions went it wasn't a very good one at all.
"Nope. I'm headed into the village to see to things now." She didn't mention the flask, since it wasn't her business, but he did.
"It's... I'm a drunk. If I go too long without anything, it will make me sick. It isn't a good thing, but if I'm careful and have just a little now, then I'll be able to sleep and stand my watch later." He seemed eager for her to understand, and she thought she really did. He was being honest enough with her, at least to what he believed.
That being the case, she didn't see a reason to tattle on him.
"All right. I saw nothing. Just keep that in mind when it's my turn?" Not that she thought it would come up, but you never knew.
The red nosed and ruddy faced man nodded seriously, as if it were a sacred pact.
She trudged out then, the ground having melted and most of the snow being gone. Her jacket wasn't waterproof, and she didn't have an oil cloth with her, but she had the rifle and a two foot long lacquered stick tucked through her belt, tied loosely into place. It was in the way if she needed to run very fast, but it was better to have it than not.
The trip took longer than was needed, since she jogged it, but without rhythm, moving through the woods and trying to work out a good place to hide the things. Without actually doing that. So it needed to be a protected spot, but not a criminal's secret camp. Shelter for the horses, she remembered. That's how she'd present it. A place that was near the road, but that was out of the sight of The Lament, so that the others could sneak off, unnoticed.
Preferably while she was busy doing something else.
That way she wouldn't be implicated in it. Really, if she could time it right, being with Judge Claire would be the best thing at the time. That would give her an alibi that no one would ever bother trying to test. It was going to take some planning though, to get that done. Maybe the woman would like some music? Or they could go over her experience with Roy, so she could improve? That would be embarrassing, but also needed. You didn't get better without trying to, regardless of what most people believed.
She didn't really see the perfect spot or anything and realized that the best one would require a lot of physical labor to make suitable. Cutting back some brush and hauling it out of the way. It would be a pain, but if things didn't take too long she might be able to get it done before darkness fell. Of course, what were the odds of that actually happening?
She didn't wait, just walking into Will's house and searching out his box of coins first. He had a bit more than he'd mentioned, but it wasn't exactly a hidden hoard. She smiled anyway and pocketed them all, and then went out to find the meat wagon, which was smaller than she figured it would be, only being about two meters long, and about that wide. It was heavily built though, with a lot of heavy timbers and iron banding on it for strength. The wheels were wider than she was used to seeing too, by about three times, and had metal rims on them, over the wood. It was set up for one horse, she saw, and she thought she could get an animal hooked up to it, if she had to. Which would, she hoped, be a thing. Two horses would be best, so that they could take turns pulling.
She'd read a story with that in it once at least. Hopefully the writer had been working from experience, or at least common sense and not just making up fanciful sounding things. It made sense to her, but what did she know about it?
It wasn't hard to find the place in the tiny village with horses, though finding the man that ran it was more work. It was, she realized, the father of the boy with the horrible mustache. Eric. He came out with his son and looked at her as if she were there to pick his pocket, or to beg a free meal, rather than buy things from him.
"What do you want?" The older man had a full beard, as most of the men in the village did, and was less tidy about it than some. It was long, but didn't hide that his neck hadn't been trimmed at all, so that he looked unkempt. It was a nice reddish brown with no particular silver in it. After a second she smiled, realizing that she knew the man, and that he had a reason to be a little surly with her.
She'd shot him after all. In the leg.
She glanced at it obviously and then her rifle, which the man didn't miss at all. Then Pran tried to make herself seem concerned and pleasant.
"I came to check on you and make certain you were all right? Or, to be more honest, I came to get a good deal on some strong ponies, and then find you later. I didn't know you were the same man that came to help us deliver Will Butcher to captivity."
It would have been more awkward if she wasn't armed, sh
e realized. The man kept eyeing the rifle and it left her feeling more secure. Like she was safe. He also noticed the truncheon and grimaced a bit before speaking.
"I don't have any ponies." It was clear he was making an effort to speak well, and trying not to seem like a total fool at the same time. "I have six horses. How many would you be interested in? What would you be needing them for?"
Pran shrugged. This was going to be the hard part. She needed to be honest enough with the man that he wouldn't feel fooled later, but do it in a way that he also wouldn't simply refuse to sell to her. She shrugged.
"I have control of all Will Butcher's things. If he's found innocent they're his, minus my agenting fee. If he's guilty then I get to keep them. That's the agreement at least. He wants a few horses to pull his wagon. It's heavy, but not too big. You know the one?" People that were thinking tended not to just say no, especially if she could make it seem like he'd gain from it.
The man nodded.
"Aye, that one. I have a few horses that have pulled it before. Not fine beasts, but enough for him to get away from here. Normally they'd go for twenty each, but this is the slow season. I'll lower to seventeen, if you take them both today, so I don't have to feed them."
Pran thought about the coins she had, which totaled about thirty in all. She smiled a bit and shook her head.
"I was born on a day, but it wasn't yesterday. How about this. I'll go ten each, but you throw in a week's food for them both. You don't particularly want Will Butcher here in town because he can't travel, do you?" She thought it was a fine argument, but the horse seller snorted at her, even if she was armed and he wasn't.
"The man ain't walking from this. Hadis may be only a child, but she ain't one to tell false tales and even if she were, no one would believe them, if'n Mildred weren't saying she saw it with her own eyes. You just want a special deal, so that you win out in the end, from other people's misery." That came with a hard look, and Pran snorted back at him, actually feeling a bit upset.
