by P. S. Power
There was a low whistle from the woman next to him. That, apparently was a thing she did.
"Nice. New cargo hauler?"
"Mainly for people, but that too. You might as well be up front with me. You can work the clock." He had a watch, but she pulled one out of her waist pouch, a thing that he'd noticed, but only barely, since it was designed to blend with her dress really well. Then she waited for him to rise slowly into the air, getting used to the controls before racing away. They were a bit more sensitive he noticed, which made sense, given that the distance he had to move the thing to get it to go full speed was only about half of what the other kind of Fast Carriage had.
"Alright, I think I have the direction. So, start in, three, two... Go." He didn't shout the word, but slammed the hand control all the way forward suddenly. There was a slight sense of acceleration, which the other kind didn't have, but it wasn't bad. He was able to rise into the air higher, but didn't try any other maneuvering. That would just throw him off of his line.
They didn't talk about anything in particular, but about forty minutes later they could see the purple glowing river on the Capital's wall. It was off in the distance, but closing fast. As soon as they were over it, he called time.
Trice clicked a button on the top and held the watch up, to read it in the dim light.
"Not bad. About fifty-six minutes. Twelve hundred miles... So about half what the other Fast Craft can manage? Considering it's got so much more size that isn't bad at all. Do you think it will get faster? The ones Tor made all did." She locked the words down, as if expecting him to feel upset about it, but it was a fair comparison.
"They should. I was hoping for a bit faster, but coast to coast in two and a half hours will do for most people. My guess would be that they should get around forty percent quicker in the next six months? Maybe a bit more than that."
There was a soft touch on his arm, the one that was keeping them hovering above Tor's Palace. His place was right next to it and Gerent's was about twenty feet further along, so he settled directly down and very slowly moved over. That part was better than the Fast Craft as well at least. On the ground you could only go about fifty miles an hour, but the control was five times smoother. You could turn in place for instance, which would make parking easier, if nothing else. That and unloading cargo. He had things built in for that too, to help load and unload, but didn't have anything to test that out with right then.
Trice hopped out and ran to get Gerent without asking, and loaded the tiny and slightly hunched little man into the front seat, next to her, if on the far side.
"Thank you, both of you." It was an odd thing to say, as an opening line, but Tim decided not to correct him. After all, it was a bit of a trip that they'd made.
"Not a problem at all. Did you bring supplies with you? We'll be up most of the night and then tomorrow you're supposed to spend the day with me. I don't know where we'll end up, so best to have a toothbrush." Those words got him to scurry back into his cottage, as Trice nodded a bit.
"Good plan. I... kind of forgot about him. That was cruel of me. I shouldn't do that." She looked off into the night, looking at the lights from the city, since this evening, of them all, things were lit. It was part of the tradition. "Say, Tim..."
She might have said anything then. That she wanted him to take her, right there, or that she wanted a free trip someplace, or even to borrow some coin. Instead she was just silent, waiting for something.
"Um, yes?" It wasn't a very good prompt, but she took a deep breath and let it out then spoke in a rush.
"Will you marry me?"
He blinked.
"Sorry?" For half a moment he thought that she was asking about something else, but on review the words had been said. He wasn't sure, but he thought she was even blushing. "You mean in a few years? I have a few other possible engagements lined up, but I suppose we could consider it..."
"No, I mean now. Tomorrow, actually. I know it's rushed, but I need to be married, and it has to be to someone that's within the three steps. I'd go with Gerent, but no one thinks that his adopted status will be enough. It's... complicated. Basically, if I'm not married by the end of this year I have to go into an arranged marriage with someone that... Well, honestly he makes Howard Turnbull seem like a brilliant choice. I got out of an arrangement with Count Overland a few years ago that Tovey had set up, and he's got something else lined up now. My father made the deal and the boy's parents aren't going to let me out of it, because no one else would marry him. I thought I had more time, but..." She stopped and looked out the window on the other side, never actually looking at him at all. "I... When we were kids I used to play with him. Alphonse did to. He isn't right. You know the kind of boy that kills cats for fun? Only he was worse than that. He never leaves his home Barony, so no one can arrest him for the stuff he does, or even scold him for it, but... He's a Gala. I wouldn't complain if he were any of the others in his family, most of them are good people, more or less. Rico..."
It had to be pretty bad, if she was willing to marry a child to get out of it.
"Ah... Give me a second to think this through?"
"Sure. Take two even. Just say yes?" She actually sounded scared.
"I'm a little young for that. I take it you have a plan? I thought you were going to try and get me to do something, but I figured it would involve smuggling a person somewhere while you were hanging out at the Palace, as an alibi." The words felt a bit distant, but he nodded slightly, actually thinking about it.
She froze, staring at him.
"That's a great idea. Mind if I use that sometime? Using this kind of craft you could move a small military force in a few hours..." Tossing her hair she made a face and finally stared at his face. "It's a bit out there to marry someone so young, but it happens. Normally when a woman gets pregnant by a relative and there are landed titles at stake. I think I can get Uncle Richard behind it, if you say yes. Maybe not, but I have to try something. He's a freak. This isn't about looks or anything shallow like that either. He's a Gala, so pretty nice looking, they all are. Please help me Tim, I'm out of options otherwise. I can't even run off to another land, because... You know."
He did. She was the future spy master for Noram. That kind of meant both surviving and making certain that she was available to do her job. The simplest thing to do would have normally been for her Uncle the King to push in and tell the Gala's that their precious little boy wasn't getting married to anyone, being who he was, or at least not Trice, but doing that while they were at war would push on the loyalty of some of his own people. After all, his brother in-law made the arrangements, it wasn't like it was a trick or anything as far as Tim could tell. No, if that was the case then it would have been undone long before. Anyone that Trice could have married first would have probably been enough to get her out of it, but she'd botched getting that done with his brother, and if she had anything else on the line it wasn't working out for her too well.
Gerent would have jumped at the chance himself, Tim knew. That the man loved her with all his being was painfully obvious. That he wouldn't be considered good enough was pretty clear as well unfortunately. He was an "off line" Countier, but only by adoption. Trice and her advisors were right as far as that went. She wouldn't be allowed to get out of things that easily.
"I take it that you already looked into having this Rico killed?"
There was a soft snort that sounded a bit like derision. It was a fair question, if he were honestly that bad a human being. It would probably be a service to the world, if he was as bad as it sounded like. A true monster that was held in a cage where no one could touch him. Or would, at any rate. That probably meant he was both the Baron's heir and that his parents had arranged things so that they wouldn't know exactly what kind of things the man got up to most days.
"I... Fine. But we don't make a huge deal of it and you have to get it cleared with the King, my parents and Tor. Gerent too. No dodging out of it or hurting him. Gerent I m
ean. Tor's a big boy and can take care of himself. We also aren't consummating anything. I don't think I can yet. I'm working on getting past it, but it will take time. If anyone asks, we lie."
Trice sighed and touched his arm again, gently.
"Thank you. I'll be a great wife, I promise. You'll hardly know that I'm around most of the time or anything. I'll handle everything else. Don't worry about it. Will you be available tomorrow? Or, I guess, the next day. I don't know anyone that can officiate that will be willing to work on Noram Day. I don't want to wait. We only have eight days until it's too late."
"Sure."
Timon really couldn't believe his luck. After all, Trice was set up to be in a position to know almost everything in the land. That didn't mean she'd instantly share it all with him, of course, but as her power and influence grew, so would his. It was, as marriages went, not a bad idea. Karina would have been better, but really, what were the odds of that happening? About one in twenty or so? Patricia Morgan was sitting right next to him, both with a need and the pull to possibly make it happen, even if it did make her look bad.
Gerent climbed back in, a small black bag in his right hand.
"Sorry that took so long. I wasn't really ready to go anywhere. I should have my things ready for it all the time. I've gotten into some bad habits. There was a time when my things were never more than fifty feet from me, ready to run, all the time."
He settled in next to Trice, who seemed a little nervous but not too much so to start right in.
"Gerent? I have to tell you something..." The story got repeated, with the little man looking at first angry and then frightened. When the punch line came he simply nodded.
"Of course. Thanks Timon. You're a good brother. I don't know what we'd do otherwise. Go on the run or something. This is better. This way you can have a real life Patty. I just wish..." Gerent didn't say what he wished, but they all knew.
That he could be the one marrying her.
Timon didn't pretend not to understand.
"Well, you know, noble rules, so you two can date or whatever you want. This is just what's needed to alter the situation at hand. I'd love to know what your father was thinking at the time, Trice. Then again, arranged marriages are kind of a thing for the nobility. Too bad this Rico turned out to be so much of a creep."
The curly haired woman just nodded and looked out into the night.
Chapter four
Inside the Countess's mansion people were mingling and a few still picked at plates of food or were busy drinking beverages that smelled flammable. Just after they got there and Gerent managed to collect a dozen hugs at least from various people, Trice started making the rounds to get her plan into motion. Timon wasn't invited along for that part, not at first anyway. That was the deal, wasn't it? She had to make it happen. He put the odds of it actually taking place at about fifteen percent or so.
His lack of years would trump an awful lot of good arguments after all. Possibly even her safety and future well being.
It was still interesting to watch her work the room. He would have attacked the problem head on, going to the parents first, or perhaps enlisting Tor to help argue her cause. Patricia didn't do that at all, going first to Count Thomson of all people. Then, together, about ten minutes later they both headed over to Count Peterson. The man was far more than half drunk already, but crossed his arms and started shaking his big head, clearly disagreeing with whatever it was that they were saying. It sort of made sense, once Tim took time to think it over.
As a Count, one related by marriage to the King, Peterson would probably have a lot of pull on the others, if they could get him on their side. If they couldn't, then the man, not known as a shrewd politician, would probably keep things to himself. It was good thinking, but backfired almost immediately, since the second the others left him, the bearded giant in green practically ran to Count Lairdgren. Thomson and Trice were headed toward Laurie by then, which probably meant a fight was about to take place. Most likely not a physical one at least, since his mother wasn't a violent person by nature, but she was opinionated and bossy most of the time and very protective of her children. Most of them at least.
She was a bit hit or miss with Tor actually.
The room started to flow then, with people going from group to group, pretending like they were being polite, when it seemed like they were all ready to take action of one sort or another. It had always been a long shot, so he didn't let the idea that it would be forbidden get to him. That might even be for the best.
After about half an hour the sides had clearly been taken with people standing in different parts of the room talking heatedly about things. There was a third group that was a lot quieter, made up of Count Lairdgren, Bonita and Ali. After a few minutes Douglas walked over to chat with them. They mainly shrugged at each other.
Count Peterson was getting loud, so even the kids learned about what was going on sooner rather than later.
"I won't let you steal his youth! He shouldn't have to even think about things like this until he gets some girl pregnant, or needs an Heir. You should be ashamed of yourself Ducharina Morgan. He's only twelve! I don't care if he owns his own household and holds a position of power." The man was so angry that he'd put down his drink, and stood with his right hand suspiciously close to a tiny pouch on his right side.
The person that answered him was surprising. Almost too much so really.
Terry walked directly in front of the man and made a face. It wasn't angry at all, but seemed so confused that the giant actually looked down and stopped talking.
"What should we do then? If Patricia has to marry this bad man, then she'll be hurt and maybe killed. If we can stop that, don't we have to? She's our friend. We have to protect her, even if it means doing hard things, or things that no one wants to." There was an innocence and certainty to the words that left the bigger man speechless for a bit.
The issue was largely ended a moment later, when Douglas sighed and stepped next to his son, a hand going to his shoulder.
"I have to agree with Terry on this one. Timon is young, no one can deny that, but it's the part of a man, even at his age, to protect those around him. We raised him to be a good person, I can't see telling him to learn selfishness now, just because this situation is less than perfect. The measure of a man is in how he handles the hard things, not the simple." Then he pulled his pipe and bit the end, he didn't light it. Smoking was a thing done outside at home after all. Or at least not in the bakery. No one wanted tobacco flavored bread.
That little speech got most of the rest of the room to go silent then to, and Count Lairdgren, who seemed to have been arguing for the marriage, as hard as that was to believe, bowed to him.
"Laurie, you're his mother, what's your final word on the whole thing?" The man watched her closely but didn't suggest a course of action or hint at the right thing to do. He'd already stated that after all.
"He's too young... I can see the problem, but... can't we do something else?"
That got four people to start talking at once. Trice started to list her reasons, which were oddly political, having to do with how much the kingdom needed to be seen as strong and following through on their agreements. As the King's niece that was actually a thing for her to think about. Gala wasn't huge or important, but they were wealthy and had a lot of business contacts. It didn't hurt that Tim's brother had saved their main city, Galasia, once either. No one would say too much about Trice marrying him, even if it was obvious that she was actually dodging out of the arranged marriage.
"They pretty much just want it because no one else sane will be connected to their son." She made a face, but said the words out loud. It was dangerously close to being a Doretta after all, speaking like that. Pushing Gala too much might set him onto the path of working against King Richard, if they weren't careful.
At the same time, Tor crossed his arms and practically growled at her.
"Why him?" No one answered, since that was f
ar too obvious. It was because Terry was too young. There just weren't enough options for Patricia Morgan and she had a real time schedule. It was also why she just didn't kill Rico Gala. Everyone would know it was her after all, or one of her friends, which would cause another war to happen, no doubt. No, she had to do something that no one would take enough offense over to be that angry about.
Timon didn't talk, just watching the forces in the room ebb and flow. It was strange to see his younger siblings actually work into the mess, but they were all standing with their father. Finally, after about five minutes of hand wringing, which wasn't like her at all, Laurie gave her blessing, if grudgingly.
"Do it then. If you hurt him however, or make him feel less than loved, Patricia Morgan, know that you will have made an enemy of me. This is only being allowed to prevent harm to you. Don't mess that up." It sounded violent enough that a lot of nobles would have bristled at it, but Trice just smiled, realizing that she'd won. Sort of.
"As I would have suspected that even if the words weren't said. Of course I still have to survive Tiera finding out, but if we have your support, I should contact my parents and King Richard. Aunt Constance as well. And Karina. I hadn't thought about that one. Well, if I live to see the morning we can set things up? We're having a small wedding, as Timon requested. I suppose everyone here is invited?"
That at least started a different conversation, and people sat down, instead of standing in ad hoc battle groups. The only one not settling into the new plan gracefully was Count Peterson, who seemed to think the whole thing was a trap for some reason. He was, Timon realized, probably correct. After all, marriage was a serious thing for nobles, and even more so for the common people, like those he grew up around. Once connected to her, that would be for life, which meant until she died most likely. It was a good enough way to position himself, but she wasn't an easy person all the time, was she?
