by P. S. Power
"Have you ever been in a flying carriage before? One of the fast ones?" It was an interesting question, but the man just shook his head.
"Nah. You have to be pretty well connected to get in one of those. I took a ride in one like this before, a few years back at a festival. Even getting this is pretty much a sure way to show the world what for, eh? I bet you get all the cock you want, just offering men like me rides, don't you?" There was a sly undertone to the words, as if he were clever, figuring out what Ger really wanted like that.
"Oh, you know, don't change what works. This is a flying carriage however. A fast craft, made by Timon Baker. The Wizard. Do you want to go up? It isn't scary and doesn't feel like anything, but here, you'll see." It really didn't, and it was clear that the man thought he was playing, until the purple river moved under them. Technically you weren't supposed to fly over the city, but he was kidnapping a grown man, so had to take what he could to help that along. A grown fighter at that.
"Hells. This is a sight!" He actually seemed impressed, but again, didn't get the distance traveled at all, so a few minutes later, about ten, when they climbed out of the craft, he seemed a bit out of place mentally.
The nice enough looking man seemed baffled, which was a good thing. One that Gerent had to feel happy about.
"What's this? Your tiny love palace? Are you going to make me your love slave, or are you looking for a master?" It was... Actually, Gerent had heard worse lines, considering the situation. If it had been real, the man probably would have been close to hitting the right idea.
Gerent waved him over to the door, and opened it, you could see the men inside, but he just gestured at them.
"These are my friends. Helsley, Gimp, Remet, Knocker and Maurice. Men, this is Jimson. Our new... friend." It was said politely enough that the guard didn't even get it was a set up. Not more than a little. Even when he was hit as hard as Gerent could in the back of the head, knocking him to his knees, the man didn't try to fight back. The third blow took him out, at least.
"Good. Now we can get started."
The others moved in, not waiting for any more instruction than that.
Chapter fourteen
It wasn't until three weeks later that Gerent and the men with him returned to the Capital. He took the little house he had down and packed it away, since after what had happened there, he wasn't going to want to move back. There was a grave for Jimson, but they didn't mark it. He'd just dug a hole, and they'd worked together to put the remains inside.
Then he hardened the dirt over it so that the man couldn't rise as a specter or ghoul and plague anyone else. Gerent didn't know if that was a real thing or not, people digging out of their graves to get revenge, but if it could happen, this particular man was going to have a hard time of it.
The Wildlands still had some greenery growing, though the storms they'd gotten, two of them, had broken a lot of the slimmer trees down. They were all young still, so they grew even half fallen. Life would find a way. In this case it meant that a lot of trees were going to come into being sideways, he figured.
The winds and rain hadn't been bad, his personal idea of what that meant having been skewed by the bigger events that he'd witnessed. They were still intense however, and had dumped water all over the place, causing flooding in what was essentially a desert area.
After the first week, Ger had sent word to his crew that he'd be gone for a little while and that no one should try to contact him. It had been a lot harder than he'd thought, instructing the men to do to Jimson what they had. Worse in the first hours, since the man had refused to simply tell them what he'd done to Petra, and why. He made a mistake after a while, and claimed that it had been the old dead Count that had ordered him to do it and to get the others to, but that was a lie and it showed as a deep black gash in the Truth fields pure glow.
After that he managed to work the idea out, even without cooperation.
Jimson had wanted to do it. He'd thought that they were going to kill Petra anyway, and that no one would ever know. They kind of had to make the body vanish, since even torturing her would have been enough to cause a bloody war. Everyone could see that. So he decided to grab what power he could and use her, before they got rid of the evidence.
It probably even made sense to him, at the time. She was under his power, and that meant he could do what he wanted to her, right? He learned better, over the next weeks. The men there made certain of that. Then, on the twenty-first day, marking when Petra had been rescued during her own captivity, Gerent just walked in and took his head off, to the shock of the men with him. He hadn't helped with the torture, or the other things, so they'd gotten the idea that he was soft. It was more that he didn't want to kill the man by mistake, before it was time. These others had been cruel, but professional in their tasks. He didn't think he could manage that. Not with this man.
Then, without comment, he dug that grave, buried the beast and set up the Maker that Tiera had given him and made up a tidy chest of gold and jewels for the men with him. Each. At first they all looked at the device in awe and clearly contemplated stealing it, but he'd given them all enough to set up their lives as minor lords, if they wanted. Even the greedy had a point where they could just accept that they had enough. At least for a time.
No one spoke, other than to mutter thanks, since he'd only promised them ten gold each for the work. That was still a lot, but it had been harder than he'd figured it would be. He felt dirty inside. They had to as well. Or they should. So he took them all to the Capital, and landed by the North gate, away from Tor's place.
"Gentlemen... Each of you is very wealthy now. I highly suggest that you leave this place and go away to find a better life. You don't have to, but I would, if it were within my power." He had to be there however, since he was, like it or not, the Envoy from Harmony.
He delivered messages. It was his job.
Thinking about that, he winced and decided that he needed to finish the rest of the plan then. It was going to take a bit of work. Not as much as he feared though, since he simply called up King Richard using his communications device, to see what would be needed.
The man looked the same as before. Big, red headed and having a strong straight nose. That was all he could tell over the picture in his hand. He smiled however, when he saw who was there on the other end.
"Prince Gerent! How are things going?"
He didn't bother explaining anything yet, he felt too tired for that. The last weeks hadn't had a lot of rest, not for anyone involved.
"I'm fine. Thank you. It's done. That... Project we were working on? The last man is gone. Well, one of them... I can explain in person? I just need to rest and then run your daughter to the Moon. How do we finish this? It would be best if he heard it from us, I think. Or would it? You have more knowledge of that kind of thing than I do."
There was a long pause and it was clear that the man waved to someone else, who wasn't on the bit that Ger could see. After a moment Richard winced, then took a deep breath and drew himself upright.
"We'll have the needed persons here, for a meal tonight. That's going to take some doing, but I'll make it happen. Varley will be ready when you are."
Dinner wasn't until twelve hours later, so he thought about it all and then nodded.
"I'm coming now, if that's well enough? I need to make some arrangements, but... Call it twenty minutes?" That way Dorgal and the rest could come and get them.
He could sleep on the ship.
They were good enough about it that Erid and Dorgal were there, along with Wallace, ten minutes later. Michael was in Austra, and apparently doing a good job setting up their magical testing section. No one had passed the basic test yet, but that was only a matter of time, he bet. Someone would work out how to do it and once that happened, a lot of people would try.
It was annoying, getting Princess Veronica first, since he was so worn out, but she didn't insist he talk, or try to touch him too much, even for show. That made
it easier. When they were on the bridge, he waved to the four crew there and yawned. He managed a smile for Kimi, who was actually at the controls, her dark face beaming at him.
"You know what to do. I need some rest. Sorry everyone. It's been a hard bit of time for me." No one asked why that was.
As he shuffled, his lean and tall form aching a bit, he wondered if that was due to everyone having already guessed what had happened? If so, it was a good thing, since he wouldn't have to try and explain it too many times then.
Dorgal knew the plan, and let him sleep for ten hours, getting him up with only an hour and a bit before the meal was to start, but having returned them to Earth already. It was enough time, mainly filled with bathing and shaving, since magical clothing was easy to manage. Then he got himself to the King's Palace about half an hour early, since he didn't know what he was supposed to do that way. The dinner was at nine, but with the group of people they had coming in, who knew what special tasks he was needed for.
That, it turned out, according to the Royal Guards, was to simply stand with them as the transports came in, and let everyone on the rebellion side of things know that they were in his party for the evening. Count Harris, Countess Printer and Countess Callwood all seemed to get what that meant. To his shock, Ambassador Eto came, along with Dorgal. They both walked in from the front gate, but weren't in need of any reassurance, not being at war with King Richard.
The Wards looked uneasy when they got there, coming in last, being from the furthest away and not wanting to be early, it seemed to him. They eyed the people in the rebellion, and moved over to their little clutch instantly. Maria whispering to him when they got near.
"Is this a peace negotiation then?"
He shrugged. "No, this is something else. You're all in my party for the evening. I was told to make certain you all know that. If anything happens, which it won't, it would be an act of war with Harmony to touch any of you."
She smiled, but seemed a bit out of sorts anyway. The Count too, except that he was darker about the whole thing, clearly feeling uneasy. It would be a perfect plan to kill them all, wouldn't it? All it would take was for him to have thrown in with King Richard. A third of the enemy side would be left without leaders in an instant. That wasn't the plan however. Instead, they were questioned as to their current intent, using Truth devices, and then led to a rather nice banquet. It was in a medium sized room for such things, and there were about twenty people in attendance. Most of them Counts or Countesses, but Duchess Keen was there too, and so was the Baron that had hired the first two men they'd found. Reves. The honorable ones that had killed themselves when they found out that they'd broken the law.
The only real surprise to him was that Petra was already there. Sitting at the right hand of the King. It changed the normal seating arrangement, since that place was usually reserved for the Prince. He couldn't make it however, so there she was. Ger was ushered in next to her, with the rest of the people settled in different areas. Count Ward seemed strangely surprised to find himself settled in next to the Queen.
He managed to bow toward her, looking like something was very wrong, but was gracious when she returned it.
"Count Ward. Countess... Be welcome." No one else looked at them. In fact most of the people in the room were studiously glancing away. It was kind of a giveaway that everyone else knew what was going on. Petra didn't do that however. She just took his hand under the table, and smiled at him. Weakly. It was very clear that she didn't particularly want to be there at the moment.
The meal itself was very good. Slow however, as if everyone was hoping that the Wards would fall asleep or leave early and they wouldn't need to explain it all to them. Not that Maria wouldn't have some clue already.
The small talk was nearly nonexistent, so everyone was already quiet when the last dish was removed from the table by the green clad servers. Then the room was sealed, and the King stood. Next to him, to show solidarity, the Queen did as well. Then Petra did. Gerent did too, and then, down the table, so did the rest of them. Tamerlane and Tovey were placed at the end, but they hadn't seemed afraid while they ate. Someone had to be there, and by placing friends in that spot, everyone else knew that their safety was being assured.
Only the Wards were left sitting, and when the Count started to stand as well, Constance put her hand on his shoulder.
"Marvin... Maria... We have some dark news. We... all of us here and others as well, have worked to repair what damage we could in this matter. We can only hope that it will be enough to stave off an unneeded war."
It didn't tell them anything, but Maria looked at her sister in law across the table and went wide eyed. She, for some reason, suspecting what the source was.
"When they took you?"
Petra, not wanting to be on the spot or not, spoke clearly enough for the whole table to hear her.
"Yes... I was raped. Over and over, by Will's guards. I lied about it, trying to save innocent lives, but it was found out, and these people, all of them..." She teared up, but smiled a bit and looked directly at her brother, who seemed to be in shock. If not about to head into combat rage. Gerent hoped that one wouldn't be the case. It was messy and annoying at the best of times. This was far from that. Petra went on, her voice trembling a bit. "They killed Will for it. Or... They broke him and then made him kill himself. He didn't order it..."
The King cleared his throat, getting everyone except the Count to look at him directly.
"Correct. Prince Gerent unmanned him first, then each here or their proxy, rebuked him. We located the men that performed the... crime, and at least some of them have been brought to justice. I think we can all agree that the death of the man in charge, Count William Cordes Smythe Rodriguez is the important part of course?" He looked at Ward closely, until the man shook his head.
"They... did that to her? What... punishment did these men receive? Can it ever be enough?" His voice shook with rage on the last words, but the King was silent.
Gerent spoke instead, much to his own surprise.
"No. It can't be. Worse, most of the men involved had been told that their Liege had ordered it done, when it was in fact the order of the guard in charge of a shift detail. A man named Jimson. When the first two found out they were allowed to kill themselves. They'd been tricked, and thinking it their duty, had done the wrong thing. It was..." He shrugged. "Relatively peaceful. They each used a Cutter that I gave them on their own necks. It isn't enough, but more than that would have been compounding things, and taking revenge that didn't help anyone."
It was all true, and he sounded strong enough about it, but the others all tensed, expecting a meltdown. Count Ward just tightened his huge jaw.
"I understand, Prince Gerent. What of the others?"
This was the dangerous part, for him personally. The best thing to do was just admit it all, he guessed. From the glare the man was giving him, it seemed like that was not going to work very well, but he didn't have anything else. He had to be the one to speak too.
No one else except Dorgal knew this part of things.
"One man had refused to participate. He didn't save her either, and probably couldn't have. He didn't think it was a real order, but also didn't go to find out, fearing that it might be. He couldn't question it either, I hear?" That got nods all up and down the table. Doing exactly what your lord commanded was what being a sworn man or woman meant. You just didn't get to pick and choose and yet, here, that man did. "I left him alive and unharmed. If you need his life, he stands duty as a city guard in Galasia. I suggested he flee, but he didn't want to take that option from you. Either of you." He looked over at Petra as he explained it. Not that the man had said that part, but it was clear that had been his real concern. Not the feelings of the Count.
Before he could go on Duchess Keen spoke up, from her place down the table.
"One of the men, McKenzie, worked his way into my household staff. When Prince Gerent and King Dorgal came to question him as to h
is involvement, he attacked them. In a combat rage. They defeated him and took his head. He didn't seem to be exactly sane. Still, I stand responsible for allowing him in." She bowed her head, but no one bothered to so much as glare at her.
Count Ward still seemed ready to hit someone, and kept looking at the King, as if it had all been his fault. It took a bit, but Gerent understood that, after a moment. He was still playing his role as a good traitor, blaming the man for things that he couldn't have controlled at all and in the end had tried very hard to fix. The idea made Gerent blink a few times, as the large man looked at the King evenly, his voice accusing.
"But this Jimson, the one that ordered it, that caused this, you let him go free? You didn't even try to stop him? It was his fault!" A giant fist struck the table, breaking it, as sturdy as it was, but no sparks of aura came off the man, so they all stood their ground. Well, a few stepped back from the wooden slab, but no one fled the room.
King Richard looked away.
"The responsibility for a sworn man's actions stands with the Liege Lord. Always. You know that as well as I, Marvin..." The thing there was that Gerent had indicated enough of that one that he thought the King would have understood.
Which, most likely, he had. That was suddenly clear. Both of them, no matter the real and raw the emotions at the moment, were still playing their game of intrigue with the others. Luckily for him he wasn't involved in that one.
"Jimson... I found him about three weeks ago." He looked at his intended bride and really wondered what she was going to think about this next bit. It would be enough that most women would probably break the engagement. He hoped not, but if it had to go that way, then it did.
Count Ward slammed the table again, but not as hard this time, and glared a bit at Gerent. It looked pretty real.
"Did you let him have an honorable death too? I know you wouldn't let him go, not if he was guilty of such a thing, but... he at least should have been hanged as a common criminal!"
