by P. S. Power
Seeing that she was being looked at got her to smile, so the clothing choice probably wasn’t meant to insult him, personally. Not that he cared at all, about that.
The King, stood, then bowed. Meaning everyone else there had to do the same thing. Albert went as low as he could care to manage. It was probably enough, since he beat everyone else in the room, even if he wasn’t halfway down. He had a burn on his left side, near the back, that kept him upright. No one hit him, or even glared.
“Thank you for both coming. Is there news from County Thomson?”
Sam nodded, then looked at the man next to him, as if he were the one being spoken to.
So, he did, even if the room he was in held giants. The King was the largest one there, being taller than he was, even when he sat.
“There are a lot of things to cover, really. The big ones are that someone seems to be setting the fires, using them for cover to kidnap women and girls. We don’t know where they’re going to hit next. We can fight the fire and win, but as it is, we’re having to rush into place, over and over again. We could… I really don’t know. Can we put out enough people to scare away whoever’s doing it? That won’t find the people that are missing. If I’m not just being delusional and making up stories to explain people simply being taken by the flames. That’s been happening, too. We… Tim Baker has shields for everyone. He’s just giving them away, from his own hand, to get around the law on that. The fires keep hitting places where no one has them yet. People are dying over this.”
Instead of asking him questions, the King looked at the tough looking big man. The one with the nice beard.
“Count Peterson, would it be possible to send some of your flying troops to the area to keep watch, do you think? We could also park Noram One and Two over the County, to show that we’re watching? It might not work.”
The other man grunted a bit, softly.
“It might, too. I’ll send them out as soon as the meal ends. It will take about ten hours for them to fly the distance, Sire.”
Albert could see that one. Flying people would tend to think of traveling that way first.
“Can they get to a transport booth? There are three set up at the fire. It’s how we brought most of the volunteers in from the Moon and Mars. I need to get back soon. Right now, Countess Thomson is running the food and drinks for several thousand people, mainly by herself. We can do the work, but there’s no one to do the deliveries, which… Sorry.” He made a face, feeling stupid. Ashamed as well.
Even if he didn't really understand why. Probably for leaving the woman there to do the work that he was supposed to be seeing to. Even if she was better at it than he was. There was a bit of stirring then, from the younger woman, the one in plain brown.
“I should go and make sure she has help then. I understand that I’d simply be in the way, trying to fight a fire like that. I can run a food unit as well as almost anyone on this planet. I grew up with them, after all.” She looked…
Albert had to think about that for a moment. She wasn’t exactly stubborn seeming about it. Even determined was a bit off. After a moment, he simply bowed again, still standing at the foot of the table, as he was.
Then he spoke, bent in half. Even if it hurt to do.
“That would be great, actually. Except for the part where women and children have been going missing. Still, if you have a good shield on and maybe some weapons? I’m kind of worried about Countess Thomson being there alone. I mean, she isn’t really, but she’s tiny.” He felt rambling and foolish, saying that, even if it was how he felt on the matter.
Count Peterson laughed.
“Ha! Anyone trying to take her against her will will find that they made their last mistake, I’d have to think. As for you going daughter… I think that’s a good and noble idea. Do as Master Benoist has said. A good shield and weapons on your person at all times, even as you work. Come back here to sleep, or back home. If anyone tries to take you, or anyone near you, kill them, of course.”
No one else nodded about that, except, interestingly enough, Sam. He actually smiled about it.
“We should eat first, if that isn’t out of place? Then see to any remaining business. I don’t really know why we were invited, King Richard.” He seemed a bit interested in the idea, but didn’t act cowed at all, even if there was a real King in the room.
Albert tried to copy him, and probably failed at it.
The big man at the end of the table, who had a very tidy red beard and hair to match, with a crown on his head, which couldn’t have been comfortable, waved for them to sit.
“Expedite the meal, if possible.” The words were spoken to the air, instead of to an actual person. “As for why you were invited, mainly to meet with Mr. Benoist and see if he needs anything that we might provide? Noram owes you a large debt, after all. Several now. It sounds like your current efforts in Thomson are the equal of what you managed in Ross. Impressive.”
As Sam sat, next to Queen Constance, the younger woman moved, to be next to him, with Albert being pointed at the seat next to her. That made some sense, if she was going to be leaving with him, later. Going to help with the relief effort.
Albert thought for a second, then shrugged. That got attention, from most of the table. Probably because it seemed incredibly out of place in the room.
The space was made of stone, the heavy gray kind, if cut with magic, leaving it slick and polished looking. The lighting appeared to be magical. Not even placed on stone, just appearing gently over the ceiling, glowing with a smoothness that even Second City didn't manage, most days.
In front of them, the table was made of wood, being well polished and probably old. It was nice, given that. Even the chairs in the space were special seeming. That meant anything he did, a low born city man as he was, would probably be wrong. Al simply didn't understand enough to know what he was about to mess up, most likely.
He spoke anyway.
“Can I hold off on that, do you think, King Richard? I might need to call in a favor or two, in order to have people browbeaten into helping out, sooner or later. Having a King on tap for that might help. So far almost everyone has been willing enough to do their part, once asked. Not everyone, but enough. I can see it eventually coming up.”
He expected laughter, or possibly to be given a head shake, for being annoying.
Instead the large man stood, and bowed at him. That meant everyone else did it, so he had to stand and do it back.
The King smiled.
“Always, of course, sir. I might regret that later, when you call at three in the morning to ask for my aid, but I will stand ready. Even if I’m grumpy about it at the time.”
Albert let his head hang a bit then, slightly to the side, not able to manage being more animated at the moment.
“That’s how it will happen, too, isn’t it? Smack in the middle of the night like that. I’ll try not to do that, but… I don’t control when the emergencies take place, for some reason. It would make it easier if we could schedule things out, in advance.”
It was the Queen who answered, her youthful face looking a bit too pretty, somehow. As if it were too much of a good thing, or she’d used her makeup amulet just a bit too well.
“So I’ve noticed, in my own life. Is that truly all you need of us? We have vast resources, all at your disposal.” She glanced at the King, who simply nodded at the words, instead of seeming to regret them.
The thing there was that Albert didn’t really need anything at all.
“Um… No? I’m good, thanks.”
Other than the fact that he actually had important things to do, that didn't involve fine dining. The food came quickly though, and everyone ate efficiently enough. He had to take tiny bites, since the accella prevented him from feeling too hungry. It didn’t mean the food wasn’t well done. It was nearly perfect, in fact. He commented on it, since that felt like the kind of thing that a person was supposed to do, if others bothered to feed you at all. Even on the fir
e line, he’d gotten a mumbled thanks and an exclaimed good, as often as not. Some people were too tired to do more than nod at him, but everyone managed something.
Doing less than that would be horrible of him. After all, palace or not, the man and his wife had opened their own home to him. After a bit, he nodded.
“Oh… In a few weeks we’re having some people in to the club. Eternal, in Second City? You’re all invited. It’s an informal thing, so I’ll call around and confirm at the time. It’s fine if you can’t come, given that. Short notice is how it’s done though.” Which was true. No one going to the club planned it out weeks in advance. “I think that Prince Alphonse is going to attend? Not that we have a hard date yet. Um… Maybe Dare Canton and his people?” There were more, but it was just him making small talk, not trying to convince anyone that he was throwing some kind of massive super party. There would be dancing, drinks, drugs and food. That was about it, unless he could get a special act in to play music or perform.
That wasn’t really his job there, though he might be able to ask about it, if he had real plans. Serro could handle that part of things for him, he didn’t doubt. The woman was good at her job. That got him to think for a moment.
“Oh… They aren’t making a big deal of it, but Tor Baker’s wife, Alyssa, is having a baby. It was hinted that Sam and I put a party together for her? She was kidding, of course, but that’s a mistake, if I’m on this much accella, to keep me awake. Do you know of them? Tor and his wife, I mean?”
Sam had known them, so it might not be impossible.
Everyone smiled suddenly, hearing the news. The good-looking woman next to Count Peterson actually clapped her hands.
“Oh! That’s wonderful! They’ve been trying for a while now. Yes, we should hold a shower for her. Mother and I just get with you and Ancient Builder for that, you say?” She acted almost as if she were being sly about something. Which Albert missed totally if that were the case.
He simply nodded.
“Get with us? You two can plan the whole thing out and just tell me what I need to do for it, you mean? I have no clue how that kind of party should go, or when it should be set up. Any help on that would be wonderful, to be honest. Babies like booze, don’t they? I’ll bring a nice Austran Red.”
He knew that one wasn’t correct. Or rather, you didn’t give them things like that, even if they might enjoy it. It was simply one of his favorite things, so was all that came to mind at the moment.
There was a snort from the Ancient in the room.
“That’s about the limit of what I know on the subject as well.”
It was, it seemed, appropriate for men to be at that rough level of understanding on that particular topic. At least everyone found it funny enough to chuckle a bit. As that happened, they were brought a sweet cake, with a thickened custard sauce on the top. Albert had a few bites, found it too rich and put his fork down on the edge of the plate, since that was how people there signaled being finished.
At least he thought that was the case. It had worked for him so far, at any rate. No one glared at him for doing it, or suggested that he use proper manners, which was good of them, considering he didn’t really have a clue what those might be. Not other than the obvious things, like not belching loudly, spitting or talking with his mouth full. His plan of copying the girl across from him seemed to work, more or less.
She was, interestingly enough, Princess Veronica. A thing that he didn't work out until most of the way through the meal. When she mentioned it, without being all that subtle. Worked into a story, while carefully not looking at him. The move got him to smile, if awkwardly. No one else seemed to catch that she was telling him her name, without making a huge deal of it.
The meal was good, though as soon as it ended, he stood, then bowed. Going low, so that no one would feel like he’d just come to rob them of their food and company.
“I need to get back to work, I fear, your majesties. Normally I wouldn’t rush like this. At all, to be honest. I just keep having visions of poor Countess Thomson falling down, unable to keep her eyes open and some faceless men picking her up and tossing her in the back of a wagon. Not that I could blame them for the initial impulse, since she’s pretty incredible. It would just be the whole kidnapping part of it that I’d have to feel bad about. Especially since she’s covering for me at the moment.” Everyone else stood up, including the King and Queen.
The youngest woman at the table, the one in brown, nodded at him as she looked at first Count Peterson and then the King.
“I have leave to go? I know there was talk of it, but…” She blushed.
Unlike when Albert did it, this lady managed to make it seem adorable. Even if her face was actually too pretty for that kind of thing. That he could see the color change meant that she wasn’t even wearing makeup, or an amulet to make her look as she was.
Interestingly, the King bowed in her direction.
“Certainly, Alison. Heed to the words of your father in this, if at all possible. We can’t afford to have you lost to us and there does seem to be some danger in this situation. On the other hand, it won’t serve to prevent you from experiencing life or being helpful when things become hard for others.”
On standing, the girl, who actually had a name it seemed, did it back and smiled up at the man.
“I’ll do what I can. I have weapons and a shield on. Are we going back directly, Mr. Benoist?”
Shaking his head, he tried not to yawn. Clearly the young lady was supposed to be his to watch out for. Selected by her for the task for some reason. As if she wasn’t a better choice to care for him than the other way around.
“I need to go to the Vagus Space Port. Mrs. Baker is setting out some rivers, to be taken to County Thomson in order to aid in the fire fighting. There might be other things to see to first. Um, those men you mentioned, Count Peterson?” That part was dicey, since he could have a very different idea in mind than Albert did as for the disposition of his troops.
The tall, slightly wild bearded man grinned then.
“Indeed. We need to work out a way to get them into place without stepping on Count Thomson’s toes. Do you have any ideas for that?” He looked around and included Alison in the words. His wife as well, who only looked a year or two older than the girl did. That didn’t seem right, since the woman was supposed to be the mother of the other one.
Albert thought for a second, hedging toward the closed door of the all stone room.
“I… Have a thought. It could work at least. Ask Count Thomson if they can come, suggesting that we begged for volunteers to protect people while they fight the fires and they stepped forward, out of kindness? That’s close to being true and I’ve been running around bringing people in already. These are people under arms, so I get that might be different. If he says no, well, then he can blame me for it, instead of one of you?”
For some reason the Queen smiled at him, her eyes squinting a bit, as if she thought to see something in him that was deep or far away. He would have told her not to bother, if they were alone. Or, of course, if they were alone and she wasn’t the Queen there. The woman hadn’t seemed bad or even haughty, which he would have expected from her. From all of the people in the room with him, he had to admit. Especially the three women, since they were all incredible looking. That, in his experience, meant that they wouldn’t particularly have time for someone like him.
Which he didn't care about all that much, if he were going to be honest about it. If he did, Al would have simply used a makeup amulet or even go and get his face changed, using magic. That wasn’t impossible to arrange at all. No one really did that second one, since people were afraid that doing that kind of thing would make them less than human or some such. A thing that he, personally, didn’t think was true. It was more that having it done would require begging for a personal favor from the wizard doing the work. Even if they were willing, that kind of thing should be left for serious matters, not things like making him look be
tter so he could capture hearts he hadn’t earned through merit.
Plus, it was really too much to bother with in order to impress people who were too shallow to be worth entertaining in the first place.
These ladies, and men, for that matter, weren’t like that at all. Not that he could tell. They just seemed like people. Tall ones, in the main, but that was hardly a sin.
Count Peterson followed him and Alison to the door of the place, turning to bow, which meant Al needed to do that again as well. The girl followed along, her face serious, getting ready for work as she was.
“I’ll make the call to Count Thomson, directly, if that works for you, Sire?”
There was a wave then from the far end of the table. A regal thing that looked planned and practiced. Almost too smooth, somehow. As if it were fake, even though the man meant it and was doing it without contrived thought. Like a dance move, instead of something more basic and primal.
“Thank you, Count Peterson. Mr. Benoist. As we spoke of, if you need my voice to make your life easier, don’t hesitate to call on me. I may do the same, in reverse?”
Albert smiled then, since that one didn't seem all that likely at all.
“Sure. All of you can. I intend to spend my off days lying in a dark room, drunk, but as long as you keep in mind that I’ll need to use a healing amulet first, I think we can work together.”
The Queen, looking worried for the first time, nodded.
“That’s generous of you… Do you… Need such now? I couldn’t help but notice the wounds on your face.” She gestured toward him, seeming almost scared, for some reason.
He laughed a little, smiling.
