Off Center (The Lament)

by Power, P. S.

  No one wanted to be called a vulture after all.

  "No, it's that I only have twenty-five coin, and have to buy some other things too, before the day is done. Travel stuff. It's my job. See?" She emptied her pocket and held her hand out, several of the coins were still safe and warm inside, but it looked about right. "If you take it all here, then I won't have any coin at all if I need it later. If I gain from this or not later remains to be seen, but I contracted to do a job." She nearly shot the man, she realized, but managed not to point the rifle at him.

  Eric cleared his throat.

  "Um, well, that seems fair. Do you have anything to trade, along with it? Preserved meat, maybe? That wagon is too little to take it all anyway. I bet that if you offered fifteen kilo's dried on top of ten each for the horses, Dad will be a lot more likely to think it's fair."

  She made a face and so did "Dad". She shrugged though.

  "I have control of that, yes. But I don't know if there's that much put by. We didn't inventory that the other day, since it's personal stores, not held in common for the village."

  That meant they had to walk over to the small barn behind the Butcher's place, which wasn't locked, but was filled with a lot more than thirty kilos of dried and salted meat inside. There were barrels of things, as well as some that was covered in wax, inside large ceramic pots. At a guess it was close to enough for everyone in town for the entire winter. That plus the fresh things he no doubt would have had on hand probably kept him in business all year long.

  She tilted her head.

  "Fine, if that's a deal? Ten coin, twelve kilos of preserved meat, for each horse, as long as you give food for a week for each?"

  The older man looked indignant, but Eric smiled.

  "Given this, how about ten and twenty-five each, but we'll throw in that straw feed in a tight small bale, so that it will fit in the wagon, and an old saddle? It's nearly useless, but might have a few rides left in it. More if he, or you, can do some repair work on it." He held out his hand, as if they were done, but she crossed her arms firmly, and shook her head.

  "No. I don't know anything about saddles, and doubt a butcher would either. Ten and fifteen, with the feed. I might be willing to trade for some other things, if you have them." She held up her right hand. "Small things of value, so that they can be sold. Food is good, especially sweets. But I'll listen to anything."

  Then she put her hand out and the older man moved in, pushing Eric out of the way. He shook her hand, even if his words sounded negative.

  "I don't like the idea of Butcher gaining from this. I suppose I can put up with some Bard getting the extra. We don't have much like that to trade. Some good Logan berry jam, we might let go, in small pots and some candied fruit. We don't have a lot, but Samtha does a good job with it. My wife."

  They traded for that right there, so that the men could carry some of the meat back with them for it. It was heavy and she helped, and passed the coin over right away, even without seeing the horses. The older man's eyes twinkled then.

  "Ah, you pay up front. Trusting. What If I bring out the old nags?" He eyed the rifle, but she shrugged.

  "Honestly? You won't cheat me. It isn't worth it to you. Besides, I'm pretty sure we were bargaining for the nags, weren't we? You said as much. You don't want Will Butcher to benefit, if he walks. Not too much. I got what you meant."

  "Good. Well, I don't have any horses in that poor of condition anyway, so you're right, I won't be cheating you. I do have some decently docile older mares. That serve you well enough, you think?"

  Like she knew? It sounded about her speed, so she nodded, confidently.

  "Lead on. Eric, if you help me with them and with loading things into the wagon for a couple of trips to the airfield and back, I'll pay in meat. There's some clearing work to be done too, if anyone else wants to help? What seems fair for that? Brush and such, so that we have an overnight shelter for them? In the trees, but..." That took some explaining, but the boy seemed eager enough to help and was willing to do it all for a kilo of preserved meat.

  Pran shrugged.

  "Get some helpers for us and I'll give each of them that, and you double, to act as the boss." They shook on that too, and he blushed, as if it were a big deal. It wasn't like it was her really paying him after all.

  The older fellow vanished, but came out with the horses, after Eric walked off. No one here really hurried exactly. It was all a slow paced walk, with a lot of breaks and talking, instead of working constantly. That the boy had scampered away meant something. She realized it was probably that he thought she was pretty, she realized.

  Since she looked like a boy to these people, that also said something about Eric, didn't it? Not that she cared that much. She wouldn't be around long enough for them to become good friends that way, she didn't think. Still, she didn't know who she'd meet again in life, so it wouldn't hurt to be friendly now. He hadn't suggested they do anything alone even, so it seemed harmless enough. So far.

  She could also be wrong, and it might be that she was just overpaying them all by so much that he was excited by the prospect. He came back with a crew of seven people, most of them young, but Lyse was amongst them, smiling at her and looking vapidly pretty. She was in a dress, but had a warm looking coat on. Eric introduced them all, but she lost the names after a bit.

  Generic villagers, there to work for the day. Check.

  "Ah, trading first I think. Can you all help with that? Mainly carrying and such. No more than will fit in the wagon." That had to be gotten before everyone had a good idea and the "small, tight bale" still took up about a fifth of the space in the back of the thing. Eric walked it over with a plain looking brown horse pulling it along, the other tethered behind, just like she'd planned. It was darker colored, but still brown. Most horses were, in her experience. Most paintings of them were in white or black though, since those were more striking.

  They made the rounds then, with Lyse offering some of her hard cider in a hushed voice, and Pran deciding that it was a good thing to get some of, if she could. They also loaded up a lot of the dried meat, and then got dried fruit as well. It was actually a lot more expensive to get the bedding she wanted and warm clothing, coming to nearly what the horses and feed had cost, but everyone was willing to trade for the meat, so she ended the day with some coin in her pocket. It wasn't hers, so she sighed and trudged to the airship.

  It turned out, even if she hadn't seen them doing it, most of the people with her had come out to see it, since it was different and important things were taking place. Eric blushed when one of the younger girls mentioned it, but nodded along as she described the grandeur of it all.

  "I'd like to fly on one, some day. Go up into the clouds and see the world lookin' all tiny and small below me. That would be something, wouldn't it?"

  They all agreed, though in Pran's experience most of the time people just worked as they flew. The only really good windows were up on the bridge after all. That was impressive, but you didn't stand there day dreaming very often, did you? She smiled and suggested they think about taking work doing that someday, then, if they got the chance. She didn't promise anything, and they didn't either. Eric seemed almost a little sad about it.

  "We all have things to do. Farms to tend, family businesses to run. We're kind of stuck here."

  It was sad to hear, but also not true, really. They could leave, it just meant letting go of what they already had. If they really wanted it, they could just be gone, at any time. They just preferred safety to the unknown. She did too, come to think of it. It wasn't what she had right now, but the idea of a nice and safe future was very attractive.

  She had them help her unload half the things over the nearly overflowing wagon at the ship, which had some of the hands out about the time they were leaving, to pack it away in the hold, with Paul making a list of it all.

  "Don't worry, I'll sign it all into your name. This will just prevent confusion. This is your portion?"

  S
he nodded.

  "Unless Will is found guilty, or says otherwise." It was the right response, it seemed and the man called out, looking at what she had. "Set the apple jack in front of the locked storeroom. If you want some of it for liberty, get with Pran and work out a trade." He sounded pretty jovial about it all, but when everyone was setting up to leave he leaned into her. "They'll have it all gone within the week if we don't lock it up. Even threats of losing their work won't keep all of them from drinking on duty. Not a bad little bit you're getting here for this. I should have thought of it myself. Well, it's bound to happen again sometime. Things do come up."

  Then he turned and walked off, leaving Eric and Lyse to follow her and the others with the heavy and still mainly loaded, wagon.

  "Over here, I think?" They had eight people working and slow or not Lyse was worth her hire in manual labor. They didn't move fast, but it still didn't take that long, since they just cleared a good path and arranged things. Half an hour later they were all waiting for her. The horses were tethered, but had food, and some buckets of water, which meant two of them had to run to the ship for it, and everyone was paid out of the back of the wagon. It was all in meat, like she promised, but they all seemed happy enough with it.

  When they were gone, she nodded. As long as the men could get enough of a head start, this was ready. Of course, now she had no reason at all to have Zeke come out did she? Well, she realized, he could watch the horses. If he went a couple of times in the evening, it would work out pretty well. Maybe he'd take payment in Will's meat too?

  It seemed a good enough plan, so she headed back inside, to find the man and see if she could start cutting pieces for her instruments. She needed someplace larger than Pumpkin Hollow if she were going to have strings for things, but eventually that would come.

  It all took a while, of course, and she stopped for dinner, having not eaten lunch. Zeke was there for it, so she was able to lead him off to the horses, along with Roy, who was acting a little odd about it all. It wasn't until they walked back that he explained. Alone, since Zeke was busily making sure the animals had food and water and got some exercise even if it was a little bit too dark to see much of anything.

  "We got a call in and need to be in the air by midnight. We have to leg over to Warrensburg, get the medicine and get directly to Hilden. It's nearly five hundred miles which will take... days. I don't know what you'll do with all those things. You can't just leave the horses."

  She tilted her head.

  "Crud? Well, I'll think of something." She just didn't know what.

  They both kept walking.

  Chapter twelve

  That part wasn't too hard to do, though she had to run into town and find Eric again, to set up his watching of the horses while they were gone. She was back in place well before they were supposed to take off however, and she wasn't a ship's hand, so really there wasn't much for her to do at all. She decided that hanging around Judge Claire would be a good enough thing to do, and the woman didn't seem to have any problem with that at all.

  "I'd enjoy the company, and this way Mara and Clark can both go and get some rest, they always work so hard. You're already armed for that, I see?" The woman nodded at the rifle.

  Mara did too, but her words did sound a bit tired.

  "Good idea. Since we're probably going to have to charge up a mountain in a day or two, carrying a Med-pack with us, we should rest while we can. You too Pran. Then we'll just need a fourth person for it."

  The Guardian yawned, which seemed to be a real thing. Pran thought about it, or at least pretended to and then spoke in a normal tone, trying to sell the idea that it would really be happening, even though she had a suspicion that there was about to be an escape. As soon as she thought it, she made herself stop, since every now and then Claire was so good at picking things up that it was a lot like mind reading.

  "Zeke, the new hand, I told him to volunteer for it and he'd said he'd be ready. We don't want to end up being dumped off the ship." It was actually really part of her personal plan. Besides, that town would need the help, wouldn't they?

  Mara agreed with her, pretty easily, and then closed the door to the space, with her on the outside. Pran locked them in and sat in one of the wooden chairs that had been pulled out, setting her air rifle on the floor, pointing toward the outside bulkhead. If it went off it wouldn't go through the wood, but just in case she didn't want to risk hitting either of the people in the space. She'd never been shot, but bet that it would hurt.

  As soon as she was comfortable, Judge Claire smiled at her, and they started to chat. Mainly about make-up, of all things. Pran had some skill there, and actually knew a lot more about it than the Judge did, having had classes in it for stage work.

  "Ah? So, you blend the foundation back? All the time?" The pretty blonde seemed seriously interested in the idea, so Pran nodded and stood up, getting the woman's supplies out without asking her, and moving a chair in front of the small mirror in the woman's sleeping room.

  Then they played with things for a while, going over three distinct looks for Claire, and letting her do one for Pran as well. It made her look older and a bit more rosy cheeked. The black outfits she'd been wearing caused her to be a bit washed out all the time.

  After that they sat again, make-up still on.

  "I got some goods from in town, if you want anything? Most of them don't apply to your personal life, being food stuffs or alcohol. I did get some metal bits from the local blacksmith. A few knives too, and small cutting blades for fine work." It seemed as if there was no need to mention any of it to the woman, but she leaned in and smiled.

  "Scissors or shears? I need a new pair for hair trimming."

  "Actually, yes. There are a couple of those to pick from. Most of them made it into my portion of things too. I hadn't really thought of it, just that Will won't need a lot of those on the road at first. No wire that was suitable for instrument strings, unfortunately."

  There was a bell then, that rang to in the distance. It lasted for about a minute.

  Claire looked around and then gestured for her to follow along, securing anything that had been left loose. Pran had been around long enough to recognize the signal for rope release. After that they'd take off almost instantly.

  They both resettled on the floor, Pran cradling her rifle on her lap. It was just so the thing wouldn't go sliding across the room when they started up, which happened about three minutes later. It was a smooth thing, but the room still became uneven. That always happened a bit. Then with only a soft whine from the engines, they rose into the night.

  She did some math in her head, trying to work out the complicated set of things that would tell her how long the trip would take. Five hundred kilometers for the whole trip, at about twenty per hour, baring bad weather, would take twenty-five hours. That didn't take into account anything else, like delays or having to circle around storms. If that happened it might take twice that long to get to the base of the mountain.

  Really, if they'd been smart, the whole thing would have already been taking place, starting as early as possible. If people were dying of this fever, then each day they took might make a huge difference. So far no one had, that she'd heard of, but it might start at any time. A wave of sudden deaths as dehydration set in, for instance. Doctor Millis had mentioned that.

  Claire set to meditating again, so Pran did too, facing the door to the room and giving it all her attention. Or at least as much as she could. It was strange, having the woman at her back like she did, but it was the job of the moment. If anyone forced their way through that heavy and locked door, Pran would try to stop them. Not that anyone would be. Even Will Butcher wouldn't harm a Judge. That would be suicide and not really help him in the end at all. No one else on the trip would either, but Judges were important, and hence, had guards. A good guard was ready, all the time. Since it was what she was supposed to be doing, Pran tried her best. That meant clearing her thoughts and listening, trying to fe
el everything around her, for hours on end. Yes, her mind drifted and certainly she wasn't anywhere near the level that Mara or Clark would have been, had they been there, but nothing happened, luckily.

  When the bells signaled it was ten, Claire stood up, the rustle of her clothing alerting Pran to the fact.

  "I'm off to bed. I doubt that you really have to sit there all night." She smiled, which was a kind thing.

  "No, I'll sleep, across the door here. If anyone comes in, they'll at least have to be really good to get to you without me screaming first." It wasn't going to be comfortable, but it also wasn't like she'd never slept on the floor before. At least the ship was warm now that the engines were working harder again. There would be hot showers in the morning too, instead of just warm, like they'd had for the last few days.

  "I really don't think that's going to be needed, do you?"

  "It better not, but I'll do it anyway. Can I use those big pillows for it?"

  That, it seemed was fine and she had a blanket after a few moments, since Claire clearly didn't want her to catch a chill or be too uncomfortable. She was fine, and the room was nice and dark, so she drifted off with only a little trouble. She really was across the door, even if it had sounded like a joke, so when the pounding on it came, about six hours later, she spoke from the floor. No doubt sounding a little panicked. It was a loud thing, when you were that close to banging.

  Whoever it was didn't try the handle at least, which was good.

  "Who's there!" She yelled the words, trying to sound tough, rather than scared. It didn't really work, but it was hard to act when you were mainly asleep. "Name yourself. Now!"

  "It's Clark and Mara." The voice was male at least, and sounded right. "Prisoner Butcher has escaped and we need to search the whole vessel."