by P. S. Power
It really wasn't hard to find the right place, the layout of this base being sensible and on a grid, with most people either walking or in two cases driving horse carts. That slowed travel down, but not a lot. The horses were good and used to silent things floating along the road it seemed. That meant the drivers were able to wave them around without any panic on their part.
The paths were made of black focus stone that had bits of red in it, in streaks, here. It gave the world a slightly irregular look, but it was pretty, at the same time. Shining in the sun, and grand. The whole thing looking sharp, like glass.
The big house was a palace, of course. A princess lived there, and a Count. It wasn't as fine or large as Tim's place, but it had carvings laid into the building on the outside, which was fine work. Actual statues of people and animals, with a large lawn that looked very well tended. A bit bland, since the garden that had been put in was just starting to sprout. It would look nice when it was finished, he decided. To his surprise it was pretty close to being exactly the one that he'd suggested to Princess Veronica himself. He would have transplanted a few more trees, but growing them in place was fine too, if you didn't mind waiting.
A thought occurred to him then, and he nodded.
"Right, that's what we should take Tiera."
He was looking at the garden space, but Petra frowned a little.
"A focus stone house? Or... a carver?" She pointed at the man who was in the yard, working with a cutter to shape stone. It looked like someone shaping snow, it seemed so easy for him. The only difference was that the man, whoever he was, had skill.
"Trees. Plants. They won't have a lot of that there, I bet."
She grinned, as if it was a good idea, even as he stopped near the front door of the big place. They were met by more guards, but these were in black and blue. House colors, not military. Gerent got out slowly, dressed all in green, Petra was in brown and silver, which was probably for the same reason. He'd just thought it made her look pretty, but those could be the Ward colors.
There was bowing, but the guards seemed willing to at least let them ask about the Count seeing them. Instead of being shown in however, a large man, all dressed in black, with a wild beard, who was at least a head taller than Gerent, ran out the front door about five minutes later, as they stood on the front porch. Near some rather nice pillars. All in focus stone, but still very fine. Carved too, with small flowers.
"Countier Lairdgren! So good of you to come by. I wasn't expecting a visit." The man bowed, going decently deep, so Gerent had to beat it. The others bowed too, which nearly started a chain of the things. The man looked directly at him, however, when he spoke again. "I'd heard that you might grow. Tim Baker told me, a while back. Amazing. Won't you all come in? Please? My wife and I were just about to sit down to breakfast."
Gerent didn't know what to say to that, but Petra and Collette both accepted, without hesitation. So he smiled and did the same, figuring that one of them would let him know if they weren't supposed to eat, or excuse themselves until after the food was done. That, or only eat apples.
Except, when they got inside, they were taken to a finely decorated room with a large focus stone table that matched the outside of the place, but was done in deep green inside. There were accents of black as well, the walls being covered in fine material and hard wood. Sitting near the front of the table was a very pretty girl that looked to be about sixteen or so. They'd met before, and she was taller now, but it was the same woman.
Princess Veronica Cordes. Countess Peterson, too, as far as that went. She stood and came around the table, hugging Petra hard.
"There you are! I see that you finally came to visit. Good. Are you staying? Or... No, you have your work, I suppose. I have to admit, things have been a bit slow for me here for a while. I read and sleep, with only a little work in the garden to pass the time. Trust me, no one lets me actually dirty my hands either." She let the embrace go and stood back, looking at Collette first, smiling. "Baronetta Coltress! So good of you to come. Please, everyone, sit. I..." She looked at him, her face fine, and at least as pretty as Collette, if not more so. A bit like Tiera or even Tor, though Gerent would never have mentioned that second part. The man was sensitive about his looks, being too pretty like he was.
She didn't call out his name, and also didn't ask. Her husband didn't offer the information either. After a minute she shook her head, and seemed to be measuring something with her eye. His face, to be exact.
"Gerent?"
He nodded. "That's right. I didn't know if you'd remember me. Things were... different the last time we met to talk to one another."
That had been a grand total of three words, since that time she'd been whisked out of the room for something the instant he got there. He'd also still been pretty small then, and lumpy in places. She actually sighed and shook her head.
"Yes. I'd gotten some rather dire news at the time. Plus some other changes. You look good. So, sit, everyone. What would you like? I managed to get Queen Tiera to gift me one of her incredible food devices. Not that it took begging, mind. I just mentioned that it would be nice, and she packed me off with one. I feel badly that the rest of the people here have to eat all those steaks and apples, but I'm still not letting go of it. We do use it for spices and some other things for the men, between meals."
That was actually nice of her, wasn't it? He thought so, and no one mentioned otherwise. The food that came was a lot more varied than what they'd had before, and the idea seemed to be that they better eat. It wasn't hard for him, but he had to wonder about the others. During the meal they actually talked about gardens, since that was something that he knew a little bit about. Veronica smiled at him a lot. Finally, Count Peterson cleared his throat, and explained why that was exactly.
They were subtly trying to get on his good side.
"We... Hear that Tor left his properties to you in his absence? We have a deal, using this base in exchange for planting the Wildlands, but in the last months we've sort of run out of things to plant. I don't suppose that you're here to collect those taxes in arrears, are you?" There was a slow but steady tone to the words, as if it would actually be the expected reason for just showing up like he had.
"No. There will be more need to plant, later. That part isn't over yet at all. This is just a break in things. Gardening, even on a big scale, is like that. There are seasons and times when it's best to just wait, so it won't change anything, tax wise. We actually came to see you about something else. Um, not to be rude, but it's a bit, eh... Delicate?" He was trying to hint that Veronica leave, or that they did, but while she stood, it was only to wave them all to follow her into a room down the hall.
No one else seemed to think it was odd even. As if the young girl leading them to the private conversation was simply what had always been intended. Gerent didn't know if that was right or not, but as soon as they were in place, Petra spoke, her face looking a little miserable.
"We... Well, Gerent figured out that I was... raped... by Will's men, when they took me. I hid it, for the obvious reason, and now he and Collette feel that Marvin needs to be placated. Even though we aren't telling him about it. Since we can't touch William over it, they want to find the men that did it and punish them." It was a short, and if not sweet, then at least efficient, explanation. The reactions from the other two were both different.
Count Peterson growled, clenched his big right hand into a tight fist and seemed ready to kill some people. Veronica simply nodded.
"I'd wondered about that. You kept using almost the exact same phrase each time. 'No rape, thank goodness, that was the only mercy'. No one says things that way. We should question Rodriguez about that again. No one mentioned it coming up during his torture and close questioning. I don't think he would have survived it, if he'd ordered it done and it were found out. Timon exiled two of the guards already, and they're believed to be dead. In Afrak." She paced a little, the room bare of even carpeting. It had a sturdy door,
and what were probably several feet of thick focus stone walls, ceiling and floor.
It was a medium sized place, but there had been steps going up into it, inside the room. The ceiling was lower than in the hallway, which meant that it was a lot tighter inside than it would have seemed from outside. Fifteen feet square, perhaps. The inside was barren, except for a single glowing magical light on the far wall. That had a glowing nimbus around it, and looked like a large emerald about the size of his hand. It was pretty, but a bit overdone, in the otherwise empty place. Who put giant gems on the walls like that? For that matter, who had them just laying around to use as a lamp?
Collette, out of her depth in rank or not, took over then, knowing the plan as well, if not better, than any of them.
"The idea is to hunt these men down. Then we'll punish them in a way that will leave no doubt about it having been done. What we really want is you, Count Peterson. The feeling is that Marvin will respect this more, if his peers saw to it. It might be a good idea if you help too, Princess. We don't want this to become a rift between Ward and the Kingdom, later."
There was a gentle nod then, at least. One that had the girl staring a bit at Petra. Like they shared a secret. Probably more than one, Ger figured. No one spoke for a while, so he did.
"Yeah. We want you, Count Peterson, and Judy Kerry, if not her Countess Printer, because I know that I'd freak if either of them were coming for me. We're going to also try for Count Thomson and his wife. My sister, Tamerlane." It was so odd, saying that out loud, but no one insisted on the adopted part of things.
Rather than claim that Terlee was too small and frail to send after such beasts as they were planning to do, the man just looked fierce and grinned with a slightly manic expression.
"Both are good fighters. Not that we'll need them. Gerent and I could go and take them this night, if you wish, Conserina Ward? We won't let this stand." He seemed ready at the moment, but his wife put a hand out and shook her head, almost imperceptibly.
"You could, of course, husband. That isn't in doubt. Or we could send the lowest private on the base, which would be as efficient and give them a real mission. The point however, I think, if I have this right, is for a large enough group to show faith with Ward in this, that when Marvin is told about it, we can deliver proof that he does not, in fact, have to further destroy a portion of the land to see justice done. I admit, I'm too faint of heart for that portion of what will be needed. Taking the signs of true repentance that will be doubtless required. I also imagine that cousin Tamerlane and Collette might be as well. Petra, well, you're a warrior by nature, but if it does not harm your honor, it would be best if these others did the actual work that way."
It took a bit for him to understand what the woman was saying, but Gerent thought he had it, only about two minutes after the rest of them were moving on in the conversation. Not really that long at all, but he was clearly behind the rest of them. This wasn't about truly delicate sensibilities, though that too no doubt, but rather that she, the Princess of the realm, figured that Counts, Countess's or their proxies should do this by their own hands. As proof that they won't let their fellow's sister be abused. Short of backing him in war, it was about as close to proving loyalty as could be gotten.
Gerent snorted, which was the wrong sound, but then he smiled to cover it.
"We just need to get the King to come along too then. Or at least someone to stand for him. I'd have invited Alphonse, but he can't attend right now, thanks to some moron making the world impossible for him and the others to live in right now." It was clearly the wrong thing to say, since everyone glared at him. All of them, including the Count.
Before Gerent could add that he was certain the King would attend in his own person, if they could allow it, the giant roared at him, seeming angry suddenly.
"No! I will not stand and listen to you denigrate yourself like that! You did what no one else could have, and ended a battle that we were ill prepared to fight. Our best armies would have been spent unto death and utter destruction with nothing to show for it save bodies, if not for you, sir! Again, I say, I will not have it!"
Gerent bowed, since he didn't particularly want to be beaten, if it was all the same.
"Bad habit. I'll try not to do that, in the future. Sorry."
The man smiled, his features going very polite, just as fast as they'd turned mean and hard.
"See to that. As for King Richard... In most cases I would agree, but given the situation, perhaps we should at least arrange for him to have a hand in this? That... is fair thinking. The rebellion, well half of them are simply sore that Richard has ruled against them from time to time in various projects or votes. Seeing him as standing for right, no matter the state of the climate, that might well assuage some of their ire." The words were a bit rough in accent, but were well educated.
Gerent looked at him, envying for a moment whatever teaching he'd gotten that had allowed him to make speeches like that. His, even when he aped the stereotype of the dandy noble, tended to be a little simple. He used what big words he knew, but this man had simply been talking like that. It was impressive in a way that no one else there would even be able to see, he bet. They all did that kind of thing, all the time.
He bowed to the Princess and then the Count, doing it pretty close to right, with his right arm folded across his middle.
"If you are with us in this, then we need to be off to find the next on the list. Count Thomson, I think? I don't know where Captain Kerry is at the moment. When I pick up my ship from Tiera I should be able to get her however. We leave tonight. Midnight, after dinner with King Richard, and his Lady Queen." Stopping himself, he wanted to take the words back.
His Lady Queen? That was literally from a street performance and not proper etiquette. It wasn't even close to being correct. Veronica covered for him, by stepping in with a hug.
"Very good, cousin. We stand ready to your word. Dear husband, are you traveling with them to Thomson? A show of support might sway them, or at least let them know that we stand by right." That got her a hug from the giant and the rest of them almost pushed out the door by the man. They took off from in front of the place, after Gerent made his craft about twice as big inside. The giant simply needed a bigger seat than the rest of them did.
It wasn't the plan, but Count Peterson had, it was clear, been raised with a military mindset. He didn't dither, or wait, once the plan was set, simply helping to map out how to travel most directly to their destination. He even had a map of the whole land on him, in his pocket. All Gerent had was a bunch of magic, and some letters.
Who carried a map like that on their person, just as a matter of course? The military commander of the Flyer's Corps, was the answer. It really helped too, since he could use one of the big mountains as a land mark, then follow roughly north-west until they found the river that it was set on. It was easy, with a guide for it. Gerent had been near the area before, but never actually in Thompsonville. It was different than a lot of the other cities he'd seen. The streets were broad, and made of focus stone, but most of the vehicles were actually floating, even if they pulled huge wagons with timber on them.
Tam-craft. Little things that moved just above the ground, at no more than a hundred miles per hour. That was much faster than a horse could do the same work, or even a team of eight. What was truly different was just how many there were. Hundreds, all working at different tasks, busily rushing hither and yon. The lanes were huge too. Bigger than the streets of the Capital by nearly four times, and there seemed to be special lanes set aside for those that wanted to use horses.
Collette pointed out the front window.
"There, the walled keep? That's Tovey's place." It was big, and made of stone, like a castle. It actually had a moat around the whole thing. Outside the wall. There were little windmills on the water, lazily turning their blades, as a gentle breeze moved along the wall. Feeling daring not being his normal state, Ger settled outside of that and got out, to walk
up to the gate. Everyone else followed along, including Boxy. He hadn't been talking to the case at least, but it came with him and had been, all day. It was comforting, really. You couldn't buy that kind of loyalty either. Not until he got Debbie some replacement stock for her shop.
There was a gate guard, because this was the household of a Count, and even if it was punishable by death, some people seemed to be willing to give killing them a try now and again. It was a bit odd, but when they got to the two men, both in dark blue uniforms with funny round white hats, Petra gently pushed him forward. To speak for them all.
The guard beat him to it, since he was clearly taking too long. Cheerily however. This was the older fellow on the right hand side, who held a board with paper attached. There was writing on it too. Upside down, so he didn't have a clue what it might say.
"Hello! We saw you coming in. Welcome."
"Thank you. We were wondering if it would be possible to have an audience with Count Thomson? Countess Thomson, too, if she's willing? Um, I'm Gerent Lairdgren..." Then he introduced everyone else, as the man kept smiling, and nodding along. Clearly thinking he was joking.
"Pull the other one now, sir! Gerent Lairdgren is a halfling, no taller than a peasant child." He held out his right hand, holding it low, to demonstrate. It was a tad too close to the ground, but he nodded.
"That used to be true, but you know, the Wizard Tor as an adopted brother. So I get to be taller now." That was probably too hard to sell, even to a man that lived in a city filled with floating craft made by a tiny girl. Cute blue and yellow things that shined a bit.
The man didn't seem to think he was telling the truth, but still called for the butler, who jogged out, his face in a fixed, but very polite grimace. When he spoke he sounded scandalized at least.
"Count Peterson! Forgive our guard here. I'd claim he was new, but Wilson has been around longer than I have. We'll have him flogged immediately for his insolence."
Then there was bowing and a bit of an apology, though still not directed his way. Gerent didn't mind that much. When Peterson started to insist on it, an apology for Gerent, he put out his hand, getting the huge fellow to stop.
