by P. S. Power
Collette looked out at the damage as they hovered, and shrugged.
"There was a storm about a month ago. A huge one. It pretty much did this to Printer too and about half of this to County Baker. Tens of thousands died in it. Maria and Marvin are fine. They hid the people around them in their palace, but the poor and those in the low areas of the city suffered a lot. Holly Printer lost part her castle. It half collapsed. She was gone at the time, luckily for her."
That explained the less than thrilled demeanor when it came to visiting then.
Gerent stared for a bit longer, not knowing what to do. How could he help anyone here, or even raise their spirits? Nodding he took them down steadily, landing on the ruined front area of the dirty and damaged giant building. The Ward Palace. It didn't have a wall or anything, which was a sign of how open they were with their people. That was the idea. Right now it looked like that might have helped them a lot. Whatever the storm that had done this was like, it was clear that the vegetation had survived it better than the human structures.
Landing, he got out slowly, taking a deep breath. He had to make a door appear in the side of the craft for Boxy, so he could follow them out, but Collette managed on her own.
"Right. Well, we need to go and see to our friends then." He said grimly. That wasn't a thing he really knew how to do. Most of his life he'd been around people, but very few of them had been friends. Business partners, a few compatriots, once or twice there had been those that he imagined himself close to, but the idea of people that he was supposed to be there for in hard times was a new concept.
The pretty woman next to him nodded, and led toward the door. He took the craft down behind him, because it was in the way, and frankly looked too out of place, just sitting there. Green and perfect, clean and sharp. It didn't match the ruined world around them. The downed buildings off in the distance, or the scent of smoky fires. The air was heavy with damp, and warm this time of year, but that didn't help a lot. It just meant that people wanting to cook their night time meal would have to fight to do it. Everything here was hard to burn. Sodden and wet, all the time.
At the door they had to wait for someone to come, even after Collette knocked firmly. There was no bell left. Before, the last time he'd been there, there had been, with a bell cord that hung within inches of the ground. That was so that anyone, commoner or highest noble, could easily reach out and summon the people of this place, at need. The hook at the top had been pulled out of the overhanging wood. Ripped with great force, if the splintered remains were any indication.
Instead of the middle aged man that normally came to see to people, they were greeted by a pretty dark haired woman. At first he thought it was his adopted sister, Tamerlane, but after a few seconds he got the difference. This woman wasn't her, but the local baker and magic shop owner. Debbie Smalls. A friend of Tor's.
Gerent bowed to her, going lower than was probably needed for a merchant. She was a family friend, after all. That muddled things. She went deeper than he did, which had Collette grinning, understanding things before he picked up on it. Then she stepped in, to give the lady a hug. Gerent winced, knowing that he should have gone for that. The woman was pretty enough, and well known to him from his last trip.
"Debbie! Gerent and I came to speak with Maria and Marvin. Have you taken over here?" It was an offhand comment, but Gerent noticed that the woman didn't say no, exactly, just looking down instead.
"I'm helping out, for now. A lot of the workers and help here lost family in the storm, and were given time to see to things. I don't have anyone. Not on this side of the world, so..."
He knew that story, having been told by Tor, who'd been there for part of it. Her brother Darren had murdered women in the Capital. Including Collette and Maria's sister, Ginger. Their mother Carol had threatened Debbie over it, in her rage, so the Wards had taken her in, to protect Debbie from harm. The woman had gone mad in her grief, but recovered later, after Tiera beat her for a while.
No, it wasn't a good tale, or a sensible one, but that taming of Baroness Coltress had been a thing that he, Gerent, had been there for. Much of it in fact. The woman herself had stayed with him for almost a month, while it happened, before she was considered ready to return to her regular life. Then he'd run off, and hadn't even tried to check on her, shirking that duty all together.
Worse, he hadn't even thought about it, until he saw Debbie again, standing there in the Ward Palace, playing servant so that others could see to their losses.
They were led toward the back of the house, which was normal, but not to the cool room, which was just a sitting space with a cooling plate on the wall. Instead they were lead to a more formal looking area that had heavier furniture, and seemed more designed for dignitaries and fine people. Not family or close friends. It was occupied already, with many tall individuals, most of them being ones that Gerent didn't recognize at all.
He got a few of them, at least. Maria, who was a lot like Collette, being blonde and pretty. Her husband the Count, who was a true giant, being nearly nine feet tall, with skin that was as dark as Gerent's own. Carol Coltress was there as well, and the Dowager Ward, who was recognizable only because she sat next to her daughter, Petra. She was next to a rather stern looking woman that had a cool handsomeness to her. Lean and pale, but not exactly a true vision of loveliness.
Gerent had seen rooms like this before, both in structure and containing as many attractive women. Any meeting in Two Bends for instance, or a Baker family gathering. In fact, it was hard to tell who was the best looking person in the room. Not the strange tall woman, or the slightly shorter dark man. After a bit he started bowing, just assuming he was in good company. The fine kind that meant he better go low and stay that way, until told otherwise.
When in doubt, the rule was for little people like him to grovel.
Marvin Ward, the Count, stood and bowed back.
"Welcome! We didn't know to expect more guests. Please, come join us. Collette, so lovely to see you, and you brought a new friend? I..." Marvin Ward bowed low, which was out of place, but meant something since it was done toward Gerent alone. As Count he didn't really have to do much of that, not in his own County. So he was trying to cover for something. Given the rest of the reactions that he'd been getting over the last day, Ger had an actual idea what was going on. So he bowed back, and then smiled.
"I grew a bit, since we last met. Gerent Lairdgren?"
Everyone in the room stared, but Petra jumped up and hugged him, understanding it all instantly.
"Hah! Well, there goes you're too little to fight excuse, doesn't it? You must be seven and a half feet tall already! If you had darker eyes I'd think you were my own brother." She didn't let go of him quickly, treating him like that kind of family member already. So he returned the move, not wanting to seem rude. She was well put together, and sturdy, rather than lithe, but it was still fun, holding her like that.
The next bit was strange, since Marvin moved in and took a turn too. Not for as long and with more happy back pounding.
"Countier Lairdgren! Wonderful. I have to admit I was at a loss for a few moments there. Do you need to eat?" It was a sudden turn, but all the other tall people were nodding, understanding the idea. He'd been doing all right, but fast growth meant eating more than normal. A giant like the Count had probably needed to consume vast quantities of food for a decade to reach the size he was, for instance. He was hungry, but Gerent shook his head, then gestured to Boxy.
"I brought some gifts, from my garden? Some vegetables. Melons too?" It was clear that no one there was starving, but they weren't introduced either. It was a noble thing, then. Or a secret one. He was either supposed to know who they were, or risk insulting them.
Hardly fair, since he didn't know anyone at all, really. He bowed to the other tall people, and Petra, being that she was polite and clearly a wonderful person, actually pointed out who the others were.
"Everyone, in case you missed it, this is Count
ier Gerent Lairdgren. Off line, which is why he isn't short like the rest. Adopted by the old Count. Also the hero that ended the last war. By himself. We can go into that later, if anyone needs to know about it." She let herself go somber on the last words, and then bowed toward him a bit. "It's a bit of a shock that you haven't been knighted for that. I think you have your three marks of valor, already."
She turned toward the others, going in order of rank, it seemed.
"This lovely lady is Countess Holly Printer. Next to her is Baron Michael Eager. His lands are in Printer County, north of here. They're both here to plot against the King, while pretending they're good citizens merely seeking aid for their people." She wasn't smiling about that, and the Baron looked scandalized, and ready to fight, though Countess Printer just gave the woman a dark and slightly disgruntled look.
"Thanks Pet. Introduce the man as a killer, and then suggest that Eager and I are traitors? Kind of you. The fact is that we could use the help and King Richard hasn't been doing much for anyone for a while. I know that things are spread thin, but he could part with some food stores. He has control of all the new food devices. That isn't exactly going to endear him to the people taking up against him, if no one else can get food." She didn't exactly glare at Petra, but she did make solid eye contact.
Baron Eager sank down, then stood again, and tossed off a bow at Gerent and eyed Collette for a moment.
"Sorry, I forgot myself there. Manners are needed in such times. I agree with Countess Printer however. We have come to seek what mutual aid we may take, and offer. I don't suppose that County Lairdgren might have something to offer as to that end? Food would be the most pressing thing, but wood for building materials, or..." It was clear he didn't know at all.
Gerent looked at the man, who was at least in his late forties, and smaller than he was by almost a foot. Stockier, and like he'd been thinking, none of these people had missed many meals. Then, the rich and powerful starved last, as a rule, didn't they?
"I don't know about that. I've been gone, planting the Wildlands, for the last half a year. There is a new shipment of food devices and some other things to come soon. Collette and I are going to Harmony tomorrow to get them. Queen Tiera and the others there are providing them. I don't know if they're to all go to the King or not. I don't think so, since she spoke about distribution. I think I'm supposed to be in charge of that, but I won't have the particulars for a bit." He was faking a royal accent. Much like he used to for his street performances. It was far from perfect, but given that it varied from place to place, it was close enough for these people not to feel too mocked.
Then, he was downplaying it a little too. Softening the joke. Given his new growth, it just seemed real, rather than like a midget pretending to be one of the mighty. No one laughed at him at least. The entire room got quiet, and everyone stared at him. It was a bit disconcerting, to be honest. He felt a sudden urge to scurry out of the room, ducking his head and thinking of good places to hide.
Petra smiled at him, and then hugged him again.
"Well, put me down for one of those new Tiera made units? I'm getting sick of apples three times a day. I should send a note along with you for Timon. One for Tor, too. I know them better than the Queen. Which is an oversight on my part, but who knew that was going to happen, right? I should have gotten her into bed that one time, but no, I took the high road..." She was being funny, Gerent thought. At least she wore a big smile.
Baron Eager sighed however.
"Well, if any of those could be steered to this side of the land, I'll pay handsomely. I should work up a bribe for her. A gift, I mean, of course. What does the Queen of the Moon need?" The man looked over at the still standing Gerent, but took his own place, on the dark colored leather sofa along the far wall, near Countess Printer.
Collette took his hand and found a seat for both of them, on the other side, not waiting to be asked to sit. She was, after all, family. Maria looked at the floor, which was polished wood, and then smiled at him sweetly.
"Does Tiera need anything? I heard that the Moon makes whatever they want. Even gold and jewels have no value there, since they can simply toss dust and rocks into a magical device and produce them. I think she may be quite past bribery, Baron Eager. We will have to simply swallow our pride and beg, that being the case. That, or all visit her and see if we can soften her up with sex. That's harder to do by letter, so I think perhaps that first option is the right one, for now. Humbling, but we don't have a lot of other options." She looked at Gerent, shyly, and then after a bit, more boldly. "I know, we'll all take turns seducing her Envoy here, and he can lobby for us. You aren't related to her by blood, so you can go and-"
Petra snorted, loudly, and let it turn into a dire chuckle after everyone looked at her. It really did sound mad, Gerent realized. Like her mind was coming unhinged.
"Leave him alone, Maria. At least that way. No, we can just send some letters and ask. You always try to go for intrigue all the time. That, or assume that everyone else is going to make you pay and pay for whatever it is you want. Tiera is a Baker. She won't expect you to grovel too much. It seems to me that I remember hearing about her brother, Tor, who is perhaps your worst enemy in the whole world, once fighting seven assassins to save your life. After you were vile to him and nearly pushed him into killing himself in shame. I doubt that Tiera will really require you to debase yourself."
Gerent didn't know that story, and didn't ask, since it was clear from the looks on their faces that everyone else in the room did. He didn't want to be that boring person that always wanted the old tales repeated. He'd just have to ask Collette, later.
Maria clapped, once, a startling thing that made him jump a bit.
"Would you be willing to take some missives for us, Countier Lairdgren? Official ones, I mean. Some others too, if you don't mind? I fear that with the Heir to the throne and the middle Princess living on her doorstep, we may be at a disadvantage when it comes to the Queen of the Moon. We should all see to that now. I know it's awfully rude of us..." She actually seemed scared for a second, and stared around the room. In the end she lit on her own mother, and then tried to get Petra involved in whatever she was thinking, only to have both of them shake their heads.
The Dowager spoke first.
"No, dear, we should write as well. Petra is a close friend of several people there, and I have some passing friendship with Torrance. Perhaps Debbie would entertain them for a while? I know that she's only a servant, but..." She looked ashamed of herself then, even though Miss Smalls let her head come up proudly. It was Maria that looked horrified and froze for a moment. Enough so that Holly Printer looked away, so as to not see the scene that was unfolding.
Gerent smiled at Debbie, and then nodded.
"Actually, I have some business to discuss with Merchant Smalls, I think? I should be able to talk to Tor and Tim about stock and all that?" He didn't know that for a fact, but the woman smiled at him as if he'd just invented Noram Day.
Maria seemed relieved at the words, and the room went back to slightly formal and stuffy, rather than dangerous. Why it had gone there, he didn't know, but it was clear that there had nearly been a screaming match just then. Over Debbie being called a servant. That didn't make sense to him, since she was filling in at that job. Unless it was like Glaren at Tor's palace?
The lady worked there, but was a noble, so couldn't be paid for it, strictly speaking, since that would make her a mere hireling. Tor had lamented, more than once, that the woman wouldn't just draw a salary, or even take an allowance from him. There was an almost constant need to give her gifts of value, so that she'd stay on, but they had to be done carefully, so that it wasn't an insult.
Debbie was a merchant however, and not a high one. So, what did it mean, Maria acting like that? Were they lovers? Or even just close friends? Had the Dowager been simply misspeaking, or had she been trying to cause problems, using the baker and magic shop owner as a goad?
Really, he
couldn't tell, but stood and moved to the door, where she still stood.
"We'll be back in, say an hour or two? Do you need more time?" He looked at Marvin and then Holly, since they were the ones that were sitting rulers. Well, Baron Eager, too. It was a strange dynamic of power in the room then.
It was, he considered, much easier to live alone like he had been. Then he didn't have to fake being noble or anything and could just mutter to himself or Boxy, and go on with his day. They walked out of the room after collecting a few nods, with the floating case right behind them. Debbie ignored it, until she got to the front door, and started to walk across the space that was now a bare patch of dirt, but had once been a nice grass covered and well cared for lawn.
"This way, sir." She sounded diffident, and almost awkward.
"Gerent. Or Ger, if you want. From what Tor told me, we're pretty much expected to be friends, or else. You know how he is. If we aren't he'll look all sad and hang his head, sighing at us until we change our minds. Much easier to just start out as pals, don't you think?" This came out easily, but the woman next to him just looked up as they walked, her expression letting him know that he must be at least half insane.
"Easy for you to say. I liked it better when I was the tall one. Now you not only have a title, but enough size to pull it off. You say, 'hey let's be friends' and I keep expecting you to simply order me to my knees for whatever it is you want at the moment." She blushed in the twilight, but didn't stop walking.
Gerent didn't need that one explained to him, since the idea was pretty clear, even if he'd never considered it applying to him before.
In general, if a nobleman told a woman, or even a man, to do something, they did. It wasn't a matter of having a choice. A pretty woman like Debbie had probably been ordered to her knees more than once in her life then, since she'd lived in the Capital for years. True, the good ones would never do that kind of thing, but how many people in the world were truly that decent?
