by P. S. Power
It was, he figured, still pretty early when he got to her house. Tor's palace, actually. Collette lived there, her ice manufactory set up almost next door to it, outside the city walls. The place was impressive still, and if they'd been hit by the storm the day before, it hadn't done much to the buildings inside the thirty foot high wall. In fact, there was a nice green lawn, neatly trimmed and groomed, in front of Tor's, and off to the right hand side of the wall, there was a small forest growing already. The trees there were doing well, and the small lake that he'd built was still full. It even looked like the orchards were standing. Not that they'd have a lot of fruit yet, being too young for that, but the trees had leaves, which was a good sign they weren't dead.
Settling like a leaf, not bothering to hurry, he noticed that there was a woman in a pink workman's outfit, along with a large straw hat, in front of the manufactory, looking up at him. There was only one person that would be dressed like that there, so he moved the craft over slowly, and then climbed out. The lovely blonde woman made a visor of her hand, as if trying to make out who he was, the sun in her eyes. Even as he walked closer, smiling a bit, she didn't say anything.
That probably meant she was a bit miffed at him then, didn't it? He thought so, but her voice was polite, when she spoke. Professional, but friendly about it.
"Hello! We're just about to open the doors for the day. Do you need ice?" It had a happy enough lilt to it, but seemed off.
Collette wasn't the kind to do things like that. To play games and pretend that she didn't know him, just because he was a jerk that had left without warning. Oh, she might kick him in the groin, or call him names, but act like that? It didn't seem like her at all.
"Not really. As for the ice. I was wondering if you'd like to get lunch later?" His words came out sounding deep and powerful, and he was, Gerent noticed, a good bit taller than the lady, now. Given that she was a noble giant, that was saying something. No wonder his limbs had been hurting so much for the last months. She was six-five or so and he was looking down on the top of her hat. It had a nice pink bow on it, near the front.
"Well! What a kind offer, sir. Have we met before? I'm sorry to say that I don't recognize you... Blinded by the sun, you understand." Her words held a lot of worry, suddenly. She didn't know who he was, but failing to recognize him, if they'd met before, could be a real problem. If he'd been a real noble, at least. Luckily for her, he was just him.
"Gerent Lairdgren? You know... your boyfriend?" That was an overstatement, but was funnier than just standing there awkwardly. When in doubt, it was almost always best to put on a show for people.
Collette blinked several times, her mouth falling open. It looked good on her, given her naturally pink lips had a bit more color that day. She tilted her head and then shook it, just a little.
"Gerent? I... Honestly, I still don't recognize you! Is this a disguise? I... you sound different, too."
He nodded, and then gestured down at himself.
"I've been off in the Wildlands, planting, for a while. I guess I kept growing? Tor said that I should become what nature intended, but I don't own a mirror, so I have no clue what I look like. Good enough for that meal later?" He smiled, Boxy floating behind him. It left him feeling more self assured, since it meant he had at least one friend still.
Rather than answer, he was tackled into a warm hug. It was close and comfortable, not angry, or stand-offish.
"Of course! I hope you like apple tarts? Everything is made from apple right now, since that's what the Timon devices make. I'd kill for a peach. I hear that the palace has a Tiera food device that will make almost anything, but ever since everyone went away, they stopped inviting me to lunch. Amazing how that works." She grinned about it, her face pleased.
That was a thing that he knew about at least. Both kinds of food devices, though he hadn't had access to either of them. Tim's made a lot of food, taking dirt, rocks or almost anything else and changing them into flour, sugar, beef steak or apples. Tiera's magic was better, as far as variety, making almost anything, like Collette had mentioned, but only one plate of food at once.
"I have some vegetables with me. In Boxy here." He blushed, having just referred to his carrying case by name, but she didn't ask about that, just looking surprised.
"You have food? I mean, that you got in? Like a crop?"
"Only from my little garden. Here..." He cracked the lid, which showed about a hundred pounds of various things, in different interior bins.
Collette suddenly kissed him, standing on her toes to do it.
"Onions? You even have melons in there! If you took that to the market you could sell it for its weight in silver right now. I don't suppose you brought it to share?"
He nodded, smiling. "Yeah. I had to get it in yesterday, so some of it needs to ripen still. There was a big storm. About three hundred miles from here, did you get it?" He was curious, but she just shrugged.
"No? There was some wind, but nothing storm like. Let me get everyone set for the day here and then you and I can go and chat. It's really good to see you. I've been worried about you." There was a bit of a dark tone to her words and face then, but she just turned and started getting her men ready for the day. There were seven of them, all dressed in brown, four with carts, loading them with large cold blocks, for deliveries. It didn't take her long, since it was, as she pointed out to him, just making and delivering ice.
"It practically takes care of itself, but someone has to make certain all the coin gets collected properly. Not that it's hard." Wiping a single hand down her front, she moved closer to him, and put an arm over his shoulder, reaching up to do it. "Now, let's go and get inside, out of this heat."
He nodded. Not that he was feeling it at all. Her light blue eyes were distracting, he realized. They always had been, but she was staring at him a bit more than she used to. Looking away, and back again, every few moments. Like she was really pleased to see him. Or at least Boxy.
Either way, it was better than a scolding.
"Here, climb in and we'll get you back directly." Again he winced, since she wasn't going to see Boxy as a person. He knew that, but it was a hard habit to break. It was his fault, for turning the thing into a pet in his mind like he had. Collette ignored it again.
It took about a minute to get into the craft, and about half that to get to where they were going, even barely moving along the large cart path. He made sure the thing crawled, so that he didn't accidently hit anyone. People could still just step out in front of you, so it paid to be careful in the city. The last thing he wanted was more death on his hands.
He waited politely for Collette to climb out and unloaded his floating box friend, who glistened charmingly in the bright sun. So did he, most likely, being dressed almost the same way. With a touch and a thought he turned the craft off, but missed the grab, which meant bending over to pick up the amulet, as it fell. That got tucked back around his neck, still on a simple string. Tor wore all of his things that way, but Tim normally used fine silver chain. Gerent copied the older of the two that way, because it was cheaper. He'd been given use of all Tor's coin, but hadn't really felt comfortable with the idea.
Besides, the man had given most of it away. There might be more now, since he owned a lot of businesses, but it still made sense not to be greedy with it. It wasn't his, and could be taken away if he abused the privilege. Not that anyone had ever mentioned that part of things, it simply made sense to him. His entire life, and everything he owned now, was a privilege. An honor that was bestowed on him, for no particular reason. If he didn't fight to keep it safe, then he was a fool.
Collette took him by the hand and led him inside. The palace was, well, a real one. As grand as what the King had in the city behind them. Really, done all in cream and gold at the moment, this place was a tiny bit nicer. Only a little, and made to look smaller at the moment, but still huge. That was probably done on purpose, because showing up the ruler of the entire land wasn't a great plan, day to
day. Collette was smart enough to see that. Gerent knew, because she was describing it all as they got inside the grand door.
"Almost everyone is back in their own county right now. I stepped the size back when everyone left. I... Will you be living here now?" She didn't sound upset by the idea, but he shook his head.
After all, he had his own house, didn't he?
"I might visit for a bit, but I'm not relocating. Is it all right for me to stay here even? It's your house, after all."
She snorted.
"Tor's, and you're his brother. I'll be lucky if I don't get turned out on my hind end. Of course, I do hear a rumor that we're dating now? That's reassuring, after you just took off like you did. In the Wildlands, you say? For half a year?"
Collette seemed skeptical, as if he'd lie about something like that?
"Alone, for the most part. I know, it's hard to believe, being that I'm ever so popular, but believe it or not, almost no one wants to live in the middle of a desert and plant with me. On the good side, nearly a third of it is planted now. That took some doing. Help too. We're out of seeds for now, so..."
She took his arm and made sure Boxy followed them all the way inside. The case did of course, since that was its job. Turning a bit she eyed it for a second, and then nodded.
"Let's take your friend here past the kitchen? Mother will want to see you, I think. Especially bearing gifts."
Not that Glaren was the kind of person that was more impressed with gifts than people, he didn't think. The woman wasn't in however, which was baffling, until one of the undercooks explained. The lady was about thirty, which meant his own age, more or less, and short, compared to either him or Collette. Merchant tall, for a woman, so about five-eight, or about that. Not a noble, most likely. They tended to be larger. Not always, but enough that they were referred to as noble giants for a reason.
The cook was polite, but explained efficiently.
"Ma'am is off to visit her clothing shop, Miss." She looked down, but then went back to her work, looking at him only slightly, from the corner of her eye.
Collette shrugged.
"Well then! We can unload some of this, if you want, Gerent? Unless you need to save some of it as gifts for others? That might be best. We could go visiting after lunch, since you have your Fast Craft with you. If you don't mind? I have some places I should really go and see to, but haven't for a while."
That would probably be a lover or close friend, he knew. Collette was popular, being so pretty. The high noble rules as far as relationships went were... Pretty different compared to the ones in small towns. The rural rules were even stricter, hardly allowing for a man to even look at a woman that he wasn't married to.
Gerent had lived most of his early life floating from one small town to another, hitting villages between times, as a low player. Not always with a troop, either. That was a bit dangerous, since people would try to take advantage of a small man on the road, when they could. He didn't think about it for the most part, since that never helped. The past was, in the end, best left buried.
"That sounds good. I've been alone for a while now."
She nodded, and eyed Boxy, as if understanding what it all meant. If so she was a good bit more clever than he was, since he wouldn't have gotten the idea, if the roles were reversed. It didn't take long for him to unload about half of the contents, the kitchen staff all stopping to stare as it happened. After a few moments, one of the women, who was the one that talked to them, took charge.
"Humphries, get the potatoes sorted. We'll bake them for the Lord's luncheon. We'll only need a few..."
Gerent looked at everyone, and then shrugged.
"Why not save it for dinner later? The rest I mean. You can all have some." If all they'd been having was what the Timon food devices made, it would be a treat, he hoped.
There was a combination of obligatory denials of the idea, combined with hopeful looks at Collette, who nodded, after a bit.
"That sounds good. Still, separate out a bit for luncheon, too. We probably won't be here later."
Then she took him by the arm and led him and Boxy from the space, grinning. It wasn't until she was almost across the entire place that she stopped. The main room was done to look like polished marble, with gold silk on the walls. A sitting room, rather than the main one, he supposed. The place was too big for that kind of thing. It seemed to be the one she used though, near the front of the house. She pointed at a large sofa, and when he sat, moved in alongside of him, pressed nearly to his side.
"So, already buying the goodwill of the staff? Mother will be pleased, if she doesn't miss out on the meal. We should try to get a Tiera food device, but those are impossible to find. No one is letting go of them, and even with all the gold in the vault here, we probably couldn't afford to buy one." She looked at him, her face wry. "I know, why don't you call her up and ask if she has a few sitting around?"
It was a joke, but Gerent sighed and then nodded. Even if he weren't going to call and beg for things from her, he really did need to get in touch with everyone. Vanishing like he had... True, no one had called, but they were busy people. It was up to him to do that kind of thing, he thought. To that end, he patted his black silk left hand pocket, and sighed, pulling the tiny brown unit there. He had two personal communications devices, but that one was designed to talk to the people that Timon liked. His family and friends in space, mainly. That, and Gerent.
Looking at the front of it he nodded, and hit the sigil for Tim himself. He was the one that Gerent was closest to, really.
Collette was wide eyed, but then relaxed when she worked out who he was calling. Not the Queen of the Moon, just her friend, Tim. He was only fourteen, and not intimidating at all. Except for the fact that anyone sane would be scared out of their mind by the kid, if they thought about it for even a moment. He was a wizard and had created the magic that had killed the Ancients. If he wanted, he could kill everyone in the world inside a few days. Or even just the ones that he didn't like, Gerent didn't doubt.
"Tim Baker here. How may I help you?" The voice was deeper than he remembered, like his own. Manly, for all that the boy was just turning old enough to think of that way.
"Hey, Tim. It's Gerent. I thought I'd check in and see how all those magics that you and the rest of the wizards in Harmony are making for us down here are going? Collette was hoping to get one of Tiera's new food things, and people, being ungrateful, want more than apples from you. Not that anyone has complained, but I brought some onions to Tor's, and the kitchen staff all got to their knees and made up a little song about how I'm truly the perfect being..." Okay, so he was joking, but Tim would get it. He was one of the smartest people, after all. Not just on Earth, either.
After a second a low chuckle came.
"Oddly enough, we have some things for you. It's a matter of shipping it off, more than anything else. Tiera mentioned calling to beg you to handle distribution for us the other day. You should get with her about the particulars. I've been working for the last month, myself. Remaking the new space stations. I'll give you one of those, if you want? Alice told me that you've been avoiding her, which is rude, since she's been planning out a nice wedding. I'm supposed to tell you to fix that, if I hear from you, so, you get the idea, I don't want her to beat me, so, you know, do that."
Gerent blinked, and then shrugged a bit. Alice was one of the old Ancients that had survived. There were a few of them that had. For a while they'd lived together, before Gerent had gone and killed most of her family. She hadn't really blamed him, being a warrior, but it was hard to look her in the eye still. Or had been. Maybe enough time had passed? He should at least go and visit with her. Even if she was kidding about getting married. The woman was kind to him, but that was all she really wanted from anyone, right now. A person to joke around with, so that the others would think she was normal, and not half insane with age.
"Right. Well, that sounds good. How's everything going?" He wouldn't ask about Patty,
even though part of him wanted to assure himself that she was well. Just because she couldn't love him, that didn't mean they weren't friends. It all just hurt, both of them. Him because she didn't want him that way, and her, because she wanted to, but didn't. Of course, now she was married to Tim, so that was done anyway. There was no way he was going to try and steal his adopted brother's wife, even if it was the only woman he'd truly loved.
"Trice is fine. She's started a magic shop here. We pretty much just give things away, but since Tor has a bakery and Alphonse is doing the fine wine shop there wasn't much left for her. You and Collette can see all that when you come up. Anyway, I'll get off the patch here, and let you get with Tiera. She has some things for you to do. Try to get up here in the next few days. I don't want to miss you. I have some things to discuss."
Then, abruptly, the device went dead and the glowing sigil that said Tim's name stopped floating above the milky brown focus stone, and moved back inside.
Gerent regarded the thing for a moment, and then looked at Collette.
"Well! That was cryptic. One second, I better get to this next bit, before I lose my nerve."
He tapped Tiera's name, which didn't have a title listed. None of them did. The names just appeared inside the stone as new people got devices. There were about thirty of them now. He was a bit surprised that Collette didn't have one. Petra Ward, either. Sure, her family were a bunch of King hating traitors, but nice enough people other than that. The woman herself was pretty loyal too, as far as that went.
The last that Gerent had heard about it, at least.
"Go." The voice was a bit sharp sounding. Tense and older than he remembered her being. More like her mother, Laurali, than the young woman he'd been trying to get in touch with.
