by P. S. Power
Timon thought about it and looked at the device in his hand, the bright letters that said Lauralie Baker at the top of the list of names.
"No. He can stay here, and be ready for the events tomorrow." If they were holding the wedding then. It made sense, even if it was just a few people standing around and a cleric of some kind. "He can stay at Tor's Palace here. That's a treat, if nothing else. Or he can sleep in his new craft. They have beds."
It took five minutes, but his brother was brought in to talk to him and was actually gone from Two Bends before he and the others were in the air at all. Like he'd planned, he went last into the sky, but took the lead to the military base. It was nice to have the thing to himself. He left it small for the trip out, as did everyone else, but Trice made hers jet black, which had gotten Collette to go with a bright and happy looking pink color. Slowly, as if not able to decide what she wanted, Sherri reworked hers to have a sky blue color, which nearly made it invisible. It was a good idea really. He left his silver, since this first part of the trip wouldn't require hiding.
The trip over took about twenty minutes, since it wasn't that far, only being a little over three hundred miles. It was close to the ocean, the military base being made mainly of older wooden buildings, the rampart wall around it made of smoothed logs. A palisade, Timon thought it was called. Its main function was to keep drunken soldiers from wandering into the town that was nearby at night, no doubt. It should work, if they didn't have flying gear.
They hovered over the large space where the men in black were lined up. It was made of dirt, and looked like it had been packed by years of men walking and marching on it. That left it uneven and with strange divots in places, but Ford was a dry area most of the time, so it wasn't a mud pit at the moment.
He moved in slowly, settling on the far right, and making his craft grow before Trice could settle in, so that she knew to leave enough room for him. It was like a decently large building suddenly springing into place.
Trice was smart and well educated in many ways, as well as used to thinking before taking action, so she followed suit, which meant Collette and Sherri both managed to do the same thing. It left a space for Terry, who was coming into view in a dull gray craft, already pushed to the largest size just in time to see where they were setting up. He had to move into place really carefully, but child or not, he did it perfectly, just as Tim set up a ramp door on the back, so that the men could load their gear and themselves. He left the back open, with no chairs or anything else, other than a restroom.
"Go! Get your assess on the boat! We have a mission. Two hundred per ship. Go!" The deep voiced man that was screaming didn't seem all that old, and wasn't anyone that he'd ever seen before, but this was the right place, and the men weren't taking all that long, actually running into place with their packs. It took a minute for the rest of them to work out how to open a back hatch and Sherri had hers with a full complement of soft seats for the men, which had to be removed, but that just took a jog over to see what was holding them up and a gentle suggestion to the girl to have fixed.
The big shouting man moved over to him and saluted, which he didn't do back. Then he did the same with Trice and Collette, sort of waving to Sherri and Terry. It was clear he didn't know who exactly was in charge. Thankfully that didn't matter really.
Timon nodded once and waved at the mostly loaded craft.
"The trip will take about two hours. It isn't the most comfortable way to travel, but we have restrooms on board or should..." He called that out and all the pilots nodded, standing near the back of their vessels. "Sorry, we didn't bring snacks this time. The plan is for us to take you in, find a spot near where the battles lines are, but far enough away to be safe and set you down. No battle support except running away if you need it. You can ride with me so you have some say as to where you want to set down. The rest know to follow us." Plus, he could call several of them. He really needed to get Terry a communications device too. Right then. He had some spares that Tor hadn't noticed him wandering off with. That, or the more likely situation was that Tor had noticed him loading them all up, but hadn't cared. They were for sale after all, and it didn't matter who did the work that way.
"I'm Major Derring. No title." The words weren't gruff, just a bit flat, as if he was offended by being saddled with a little boy.
"Timon Baker. Countier Lairdgren." Normally he wouldn't bother with titles himself, but the man needed to know who to blame if things went wrong, didn't he?
"How long will it take to get going?"
"About three minutes I think. Let's get the back hatches closed up." He yelled the words, but ran into his craft, finding his luggage and pulling the device for Terry. Then, as he hurried across the courtyard or whatever it was called, he set the device to have his name ready to go and handed the thing to Terry before he could get inside.
"Just hit this bar here to speak to me. If it starts to glow that means you're being contacted by someone. For now, don't do that unless something happens or you need help."
Then he had to sprint back to his craft, to find the Major glaring at him, as if he were wasting time.
"If we can go now?" The man had a mustache and was thin, but tall. Kind of like King Richard or Alphonse, except with very dark brown hair and lighter skin. Darker than Timon, but almost eight feet tall, which meant clear noble blood in his heritage, even if he couldn't claim a title.
He didn't answer, just taking off and hovering in place, waiting for the others to do the same. Terry was up in the air first, followed by Trice. The other two took a bit, nearly a minute. Then, slowly, Tim set off in the right direction, making sure they had space between them. You didn't want to run Fast Craft too close together after all. It would have been nice to explain this to everyone, but they all managed it well enough anyway. Either it was just common sense, or the craft were so evenly matched that going full speed meant they couldn't close with one another. He sort of thought it was that last one, but didn't mention anything about it. Or speak. The man next to him was clearly worried and a bit of a grump, so that worked for him well enough.
There was a low and slightly excited murmur from the back, the men actually having a lot of room, even with their gear. They probably could have had two and a half times more bodies in there without anyone touching at all. This way they could actually stretch and lie down, if they wanted.
Major Derring looked around after about an hour and then patted the arm rest of his seat.
"How much longer, do you think?"
It almost even sounded gentle, as if the man realized that Timon wasn't in his unit or something. If so that was perceptive of the fellow.
"At this pace..." He had to look out the window, but they weren't over anything that made a great landmark. That meant something to him, since it meant they were past Rosslyn already. "A little over an hour, if we don't get lost or have to jockey for position too much. I know the way, so that shouldn't be a problem. No way to know the current situation on the ground... Or, actually, see that communications unit?" He looked at it, since his right hand was in use. "If you could hand it to me, we might be able to manage something that way."
The man looked skeptical, but then looked out the window in front of him and made a considering face. Handing the device over, Timon worked it with his left hand. No one that he knew of in Rochester had one yet, but they'd communicated with the Barony somehow, which was probably through Countess York. Timon knew the lady well enough to just get in touch and ask. That would require the other, older style device, he thought.
Except right there, near the end of the list, was a Countier York. That had to be someone that Tor knew then, or a school boy.
The man that answered wasn't the second one, from the sound of it. Not unless he'd failed a whole lot of classes over the years, since he was clearly a full grown man.
"York here."
"This is Tim Baker, here with Major Derring." Before he could explain the man shouted.
"T
he incoming forces are in contact! General, the King's forces are..." There was noise, rushing wind and a thump that meant the unit had been tossed to someone else, that meant another man was speaking after a few seconds.
"How many are coming? We're in active battle here, along the southern line. It looks like a mixed group of forces, about five thousand of them, but they're all very well armed and shielded. We only have about six hundred shielded troops. Our forces are being slaughtered here. Both the York and Rochester forces are barely holding. We thought the thing was a bit more equal based on numbers, but they have us two to one on Elites. Any assistance would be good."
The Major practically barked into the device, pulling it from Tim's hand, reaching over the arm he was steering with, bumping it hard enough to send the craft skittering sideways. It was just perceptible and the giant didn't seem to notice.
"A thousand ground troops, all with top weapons and shields, about an hour out from your position, coming by air. Can you hold on that long?"
"No choice. There's a town at our back, and I won't let it be overrun. They came in so fast that..."
Tim blocked out the conversation for a moment, trying to think if anything he could do would help. Other than putting the men in the right place, the answer was honestly no. He could send the Fast Craft into the battle line maybe, but that would be risking his pilots. That wasn't happening. They were his people, and just hired for a transport job.
The men talked until the General, who was named York as well, saw them. They didn't have a signaling device, but the man stood with his hands in the air, waving for a bit, which let him get oriented. It wasn't on the battle line, being outside the town on a hill instead, about a mile away from the fighting. It was a bit too close for his personal comfort, but he hovered in the large clearing behind the man by about a quarter mile and settled there. It wasn't perfect, but even as the Major was growling at him to get closer, he didn't push the issue too much.
"Sorry, this is as close as we can get safely. As soon as we get down, I'll open the back. Tell the men not to move until all five craft are down."
Without pause the fellow stood and grabbed his large pack.
"Ready to move out, do not unload without orders. The hatch will open first, so watch for sign of the enemy. Ready to move!"
Tim made his craft flash again, using the same colors as earlier, red and bright green, since they clashed so nicely. He hoped it would be enough of a signal to the others that they needed to stop and land. They'd all managed to slow, clearly realizing that the battle below them meant they were there.
Sherri was the last one down, the men boiling out of the back as soon as that happened. They made lines and started marching instantly, even before the other craft were empty. No one bothered to stop and chat with them about what might be needed next. He waved to the others then, trying not to seem as bored as he felt.
"We can just take one craft to get back. Everyone load up into mine." It made sense, that would make fewer targets and let them talk without using the communications devices. Not that he was too worried about being attacked, if they took off quickly enough.
Anyone would have to be stupid not to have noted where they landed.
The others moved quickly enough to get their craft put away, but Trice lingered for a bit, and actually put her arm around his shoulders, not saying anything. It was just a bit off, like she was making herself do it.
"And what's this now? I can tell the difference between a person desperately trying to protect themselves, and a real marriage you know. Even if you're stuck with me, there's no need to fake it this strongly."
She didn't move for a bit, but finally smiled. It looked real and everything. Nearly at least. A highly practiced move then, instead of something genuine. Tim needed to learn how to do that too. It had to do with making the eyes crinkle just enough to look real, he thought, without overdoing it.
"Thanks. I mean that. You have no idea how much I've been panicking. Trust me, and I don't mean to sound mean here at all, but you were pretty close to the last thing on my list to try before just taking off and changing my name. I would have, but it would kind of destroy my career. Still, this ended up being a huge trap for me, didn't it? I kept hoping Rico would change, at least at first, then later I just hoped he'd marry before I did. The agreement said that we both could. Otherwise, in the year we're both to turn twenty-two we had to get married." She didn't go into why he was awful again, but she did squeeze him a little. "I'd much rather have just left you alone and let you get married to Karina. That or some other girl you liked better. As it is I'm pretty sure that Tor isn't going to be my friend anymore. He yelled at me last night, for even asking you. It wasn't good. Ali and he actually argued over it. I feel horrible, but I don't want to die or start a war over this and I can't find another way out."
The craft started going down then, with Terry's being first, since he actually ran to see to it. Timon looked at the woman that was still standing there with her arm around him and smiled a bit, knowing it would seem sad, if only a little.
"I can't say that it's my first choice of plans either, but we can make it work. Besides, I can use your help on a plan I have. It will probably take a decade or two, but we're both young, so why not?"
She giggled a little and covered her mouth with her right hand, as if he'd said something funny. Looking up he got it. Collette was watching them, her eyes a little dark. Probably because she figured that Trice was coming on to him. Or, really, it might be that the Blonde thought that the Ducharina was trying to get him to do something that wouldn't involve sex at all, using her female wiles. That was the truth, wasn't it? She was trying to secure her life, freedom and sanity, using him. It was kind of funny, if you had the right sort of mind.
She winked at him, seeming to get that he noted her reaction more than anything else.
"Oh? What's that? Are you going to take over the kingdom and put me on the throne instead of Aunt Constance?" She was playing, not remembering who he was, behind the little boy mask of his face. A common mistake.
"No. Though don't be surprised if she puts snakes under the altar or something like that. She really isn't my best friend, as you might have noticed. I guess I should feel flattered that she bothers to hate me on the same level she would an adult, but I could go on in life without that, to be truthful. No, I'm planning on taking control of the Assassins Guild." The look he leveled at her wasn't playful at all, but she giggled again anyway and pushed on his shoulder, which was for the others, who were already coming back.
"Let me get my craft down. That's funny." Running off she had it done about the time everyone else was settling into the seats of his craft, with Collette making a point of moving into the seat next to his in the very front. Trice didn't as much as bat an eyelash at the move, just moving next to her soon to be brother-in-law.
The trip back was actually sort of fun, since Sherri tried to entertain Terry by singing Noram Day songs, and that got everyone going after a bit. When they got to the Capital Patricia moved to the front and touched his shoulder, her hand staying there for a while, while Collette glared at her a bit.
"Oh, come on Col, he's going to be my husband by this time tomorrow. Beyond that, you can put away your jealousy. We aren't moving to Two Bends, so you won't lose your boyfriend or anything. It isn't like you've been having sex even, so relax, will you?" She sounded calm, but it was clearly meant to be mean, even if it didn't sound like it. The blonde woman smiled then, a wicked grimace that looked ready to fight.
Argue at least.
"Oh? Is that the game we're playing now? Pretending that official sanction makes this alright? And no, I don't mean the age thing. That's... Not great either, but Timon will live, even saddled with you. Don't think I don't know what it is you're doing Trice, using this to force..." She stopped then, her face tight.
Patricia just shrugged.
"We should head straight to the King's Palace. They owe us some pudding."
; The night was different, since the glowing river that was almost always purple, suddenly changed, alternating green and red. It was very pretty, and they had a great view of it. It wasn't magic, not totally, as it was just possible to make out the men and women standing on the top of the wall, crouched really, making the changes to the devices there.
One of them got it wrong for a moment, making three reds in a row. It was fixed in seconds however.
Timon settled them into the landing spot near the west door of the Palace, leaving it there again, so that he wouldn't have to carry all his things around with him all evening. He wasn't planning on staying for dinner, but it would be hard to say no, if the King invited them himself. It turned out that, unlike earlier, they had to answer questions while holding a Truth amulet, to prove who they were and that they weren't suddenly enemies of the Crown. Terry went first, but they all passed.
Really it was a bit rude, given that they were just helping get troops to battle for the King's side, but it made sense. Who knew what anyone was going to do, day to day, or even six hours later?
If you held the same opinion for too long it became stale, like old bread. That didn't mean you had to change without end, but you should at least consider doing things differently on a regular basis. It made sense to him at any rate. After all, too many people got stuck in their ways, and ended up not moving along with the times. That had to be dangerous for someone like him, that would be very old one day. It might even be true for regular people.
They were led by a Royal Guard named Kevin to a small room off the main dining hall. From the sound there were about five hundred people in there, and the instant the King walked in he settled the matter of what they were doing for dinner without pause.
"Sorry, can't have you in tonight. Too many guests already. I hope that doesn't disrupt your plans? We could arrange a meal..." There was concern at least, but Collette shook her head.
"No, thank you, Sire. My mother is preparing dinner for us and a few others. We'll be fine that way." She sounded happy enough about it all, but Timon wondered when she'd had a chance to talk to Glaren about that.
