Sons (Book 2)

by Scott V. Duff

  “So here I am because you are in training for a war against us. And that puts me between a rock and a hard place.” I called up a wall of Gilán fire a yard out from the perimeter of the crowd. The men shrank to the center, so I moved it in another yard but left them the rest of the nine to twelve feet, depending. “You see, unlike you, I don’t believe in killing, especially just because of some random bigotry. But I’ve been personally attacked by men trained from such places as this and I’m still standing.” I slid the Day Sword into my hand, letting it blaze in the faces below me. Coming around full circle, I pointed the Day at Almareda. “Do not mistake me. I am fully capable of defending myself. I just don’t like it.

  “Now I have to find a way to destroy you without killing you,” I said, staring the stout Hispanic man down. I won. Grinning at the small victory, I swung the Day onto my shoulder, flat of course, and went on. “Mainly, I and those that have been attacked are seeking out those higher up the ladder, the ones who started this invisible war. You can go back to where ever you came from, just don’t come back into this conflict. You will find that this facility is no longer equipped to train you in anything other than hand-to-hand combat.” My grin got bigger as Almareda tried to understand how that was possible.

  “Allow me to introduce my companion. His name is Zero and he is huri. This is his first visit to this realm. I promise I won’t let this prejudice him against us. He already knows quite a few really nice humans, after all. Wouldn’t you agree, Zero?” I asked, stepping back onto the Stone’s platform beside him. He stood near the center and turned slowly watching the men encircling him. Still, his stance was confident and casual until I called on him, then he stood up straight and smiled from the attention. It was starting to weird me out.

  “Yes, Lord,” Zero said, cheerfully, making the mistake I needed right on time. “I personally know several hundred very nice human men and women. It became easier when you made them get to know us and we started talking together. I think that you made them realize then that we were more alike than different. Now with the Ransé and the Huri, we are even closer.”

  “Thank you, Zero, that’s kind of you to think that way,” I said. Turning back to the group of officers, I homed in on Almareda, waving the Sword in his direction. “I could easily assess guilt on many acts of violence and death based on the evidence I have. You’ve acted above the law and I don’t see any reason not to reciprocate. But I’ve killed enough and I don’t see the need here. Like I said, you can’t train with nothing and I’ve just stolen everything you have. I doubt your bosses will pay to refit you, Colonel Almareda. Apache helicopters cost in the tens of millions and you had three. Hundreds of thousands of dollars in munitions alone have been… liberated. Millions in assault rifles, machine guns, pistols, and sniper rifles are gone. Knives and blades of all sorts have been stolen. Support equipment from computers to troop carriers has disappeared. You might want to consider that option, Colonel Almareda, before your bosses find out.

  “As for the rest of you,” I raised my voice as I turned. “I strongly advise a change in vocations for all of you. If I cross paths with any of you again, I’ll show you my proficiency with this Sword.” I shot a column of Gilán fire through the outside of the platform upwards through the sky to the first inside ring of light. The ring flared violently into the second and cascaded each into its neighbor. The fourth and final ring flared down into the perimeter wall, pushing it into the ground. Everyone watched the light show in horrified desperation, following it up and around behind them.

  When they turned anxiously back to us, we were gone.

  ~ ~ ~

  There were over nine hundred brownies to take part in the raid on the Arizona camp, but only about a third now remained in the storage rooms we’d allotted. Ellorn had to double the space when Tom started dropping off the loot. Byrnes and Velasquez began sorting the equipment from the drop zones immediately and had the ransé carting it off quickly. The heavier equipment, like the helicopters and trucks, took more coordination.

  “Are those howitzers?” I asked Tom. He leaned against the frame of the doorway into the second storeroom. The brownie on his shoulder, Anselt, made him seem taller.

  “Yes, sir, they certainly are,” Tom answered slowly, staring intently at something deep in the room. “There it is. Anselt?” The brownie leapt into a flip onto the floor and ran in the direction Tom stared off at. “Sorry, Seth, but the boys misplaced a fuse and I haven’t had a chance to look over everything.” He grinned slyly at me. “We had a lot of people moving a lot of cargo rapidly. For a first time, only misplacing a fuse is very good, I think.”

  Anselt ran to us holding up a short yellow tube to Tom. “Armorer,” he said, quietly with his eyes cast down.

  “Thank you, Anselt,” Tom said, taking the fuse. He encased it in a thin layer of protective energy, raised lettering on a side marking its purpose. “Why the long face, Anselt? And why are you being rude to Lord Daybreak?”

  “I apologize, Armorer, but I would not dare speak to Lord Daybreak before you have given your punishment for our failure,” Anselt said meekly. Tom glanced quickly at the fuse in his hand.

  “Anselt, this was their failure, not ours,” Tom said calmly. “We did very well.”

  “Yes, I’d say so,” I agreed, watching the brownie perk up with surprise at the dual praise. “After all, it was the first run I’ve been on where someone wasn’t hurt. I’m quite pleased.” Tom smiled. Anselt looked at me confused, so I sat cross-legged on the floor in front of him. “Anselt, y’all have got to realize that you aren’t back there anymore. You aren’t the whipping boys anymore and jobs aren’t all or nothing. Quit expecting to be punished until you have done something worthy of punishment, something that would actually make me mad at you. Now, little one, do you think you would do something intentionally to make me mad at you?”

  “No, Lord! I couldn’t! I just couldn’t!” Anselt whispered hoarsely, appalled by the concept before it reached the geas-level of his consciousness.

  “I didn’t believe so, Anselt, so relax,” I said soothingly, opening a communion link with him. His anxiety rushed through the link until it was a mere trickle and I was able to ease the understanding and concern he needed back down the pipe. “Anselt, the faery of Gilán are still learning how to cope with a human master and I am very much still learning. As I complete the bond with Gilán, I see such wondrous creatures, so full of life and possibilities, and I understand much of your nature. But the image of man that you have is… well, we are alien to one another and your image has been corrupted by the elves. It’s gonna take some time to adjust. I had a similar conversation with Zero earlier. A mistake isn’t a failure. Life isn’t that black and white. And as the Armorer has pointed out, this wasn’t your mistake and I plan to take his word for it.”

  Anselt was a young brownie, still lithe from teenhood. He had thick black hair surrounding a round, child-like face with huge dark eyes, ringed in my color. I reached out and ran my fingers through his hair, cupping his head affectionately. It almost felt condescending, like I was treating him as a pet, but I banished the thought. He was a child in my care, sort of. In a really weird way. He smiled and nuzzled my hand slightly.

  “There is a saying where I come from,” I said, glancing up at Tom. He was still confused but letting me do my job. I leaned over conspiratorially, dropping my hand to his shoulder. “‘Shit rolls downhill.’ There’s likely more truth to it than I can avoid, but I’ll try my best to stop it and put it where it belongs instead of blaming an arbitrary group, unless there’s complicity involved.”

  “Truly, Lord?” Anselt asked with wide-eyed excitement.

  “Truly, Anselt,” I said, pushing up off the floor. “I’ve said this before, every life has value here. And yes, you can tell anyone you want. Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I’m heading for bed. It’s been a long day.”

  “Oh, yes, of course, Seth,” Tom said. “We’ll have reports ready at your leisure, Lo
rd. Good night.”

  “Good night, Lord Daybreak!” chirped Anselt happily.

  As I walked down the hall, I heard Tom whisper, “What was that all about?”

  “Which part, sir?” Anselt whispered back. “He said so much! Our Lord is amazing.”

  And here I thought I said a bunch of nothing. Just goes to show what I know. Sort of like that image of my bed forming a few feet away… It even felt like my bed when I fell into it.

  Chapter 70

  “Should we wake him up?” one high-pitched voice whispered.

  “I don’t think we should,” whispered a second. “Master Ellorn doesn’t seem worried about him.”

  “But he always rises with the sun,” the first one objected. “We watched the Daybreak communion from here, but he went back to bed. Could he be ill?”

  “The Lord of Gilán? No! Don’t suggest it!” the second whispered in shocked horror. “He promised Anselt just last night that he’d not hold an entire clan accountable for one’s mistake or even a failure. Can you believe that? The Sidhe would never be that merciful.”

  “No, that they would not,” the first agreed. “We have found a great Lord and I want to serve him well. It’s been nearly three hours since dawn. Should we summon Ellorn? Or maybe one of his brothers?”

  They really weren’t that loud. There was a breeze on the south side that rustled the ferns louder. I was just waking up and they had to be Gibson and Guitar. I imagine they had a loose relationship with a number of brownies and possibly huri with names of musical instruments and famous makers. Thoughts of copyright infringement danced in my mind, but I hoped that being a world away would keep that at bay.

  “Master Ellorn said this job would be easier than we imagine, but this is nerve-wracking,” the second voice complained. He sounded like he was pacing. He stopped and sighed. “Anselt. Guitar, I think we’re thinking about this wrongly. Remember what else Anselt said. If we are worried that he might be ill, then we should check. Daybreak will understand if nothing is wrong and we can probably tell without waking him. He is not him.” Grammatically, that made no sense to an eavesdropper, but I understood: I wasn’t MacNamara. As quick as it seemed to come through Anselt, it truly was gonna take a long, long while to seep through to the entire population. In the end, it would be worth it.

  A tiny head appeared slowly around the edge of the doorframe to my den. “Good morning, guys. You can come in.”

  They both rushed forward and jumped to the end of the bed, stopping so hard I swear they vibrated in place. Their misplaced anxiety replaced by relief and exuberance to work, they both smiled hugely from identical faces with bright green eyes. At sixteen and a half inches tall, they were a little short of average for height and currently wore matching Gilán-blue tails with sky-blue embroidery and bright yellow shirts with fiery red bow-ties.

  “Good morning, Lord Daybreak!” they said in singsong. I never saw their lips move, so I have no idea how they did it. Then they both bowed at their waist down all the way to the sheets and held it there.

  “Okay, enough of that,” I said with a chuckle. “I can only take so much adoration before it begins to rub me the wrong way. Come on up here and let’s get acquainted, then. Let’s start with the obvious question, any musical talent?” The pair hopped up from their bow, stepping forward quickly across the expanse to stand right beside me. There had to be words stronger than “cute” and “adorable,” but at that moment I couldn’t think of them.

  “We’ve tried several instruments, Lord Daybreak,” Gibson said on the right side. He’d been the first whisperer. “Our size makes most instruments unsuitable, so we sing with the choirs when time permits.”

  “In time, perhaps we can make something, a flute or whistle, that we can play,” Guitar chirped hopefully. “Our namesakes’ are definitely out of our reaches.”

  “Yeah, I imagine it wouldn’t be fun to play something that comparatively big,” I agreed. “I can’t play anything either, but sooner or later, I imagine I’ll take something up. There’s so much music all around us that I won’t be able to resist. Are these monkey suits your choice or did someone foist a uniform on you?”

  “You don’t like them?” Guitar asked, his feelings crushed.

  “No, I didn’t say that,” I backpedaled. “I love the colors and the embroidery is beautiful. It just seems too much just to take care of me. I really don’t need that much and I’d prefer this room be more casual for the most part.”

  “Certainly, Lord Daybreak, more casual,” Gibson said, nodding but with a dull look in his eyes. “We can do more casual, Lord.”

  “Don’t fret too much over it, Gibson. Just give it some time and you’ll grow to understand me a little better. It took Ellorn awhile and he had the Palace’s magic to help him. Just relax, I’m easy.” I stretched back over the pillows behind me, upsetting their balance a bit. “So what do y’all do?”

  “Lord Daybreak, we are your valets,” Guitar explained, still smiling broadly. “We see to your every need and whim within your sanctum, from bathing and dressing to entertaining guests to seeing that the floors are swept.”

  “That can be a big job for two people,” I said, casting my glance about the rafters. “This is a huge room to clean.”

  “We have help when we need it, Lord Daybreak,” Gibson said.

  “Let’s try something else that I know is going to take a long time,” I said, sitting up. Awake now and full of energy, it was time to get moving. The day was already three hours old. “Let’s try another casual move. When we’re alone in here or it’s just a group of friends, try to call me ‘Seth.’ Even Ellorn will in here. So will you try?”

  “Yes, Lord, of course,” they chirped together, confused by the request.

  “I guess a shower and breakfast are in order. Can either of you cook?” I asked, scooting passed them to get off the bed.

  “Yes, Seth, we both can,” Guitar said happily. “What would you like for your breakfast?”

  Considering it, after years of eating what was put in front of me, followed by almost a year of deciding my every meal, then weeks of basically eating buffet-style, I had no idea what I actually wanted to eat anymore. “Well, let’s start with simple bacon and eggs. Maybe some toast or biscuits. Coffee, definitely coffee.”

  “Yes, Seth,” Guitar said smiling. “It’ll be ready when you’re done with your shower, sir.” Then the pair shifted away. They were going to drive me nuts, I was sure, just like the other crew that Ellorn set on me, but I had to trust in what he was doing for now. I hopped directly down into my bathroom, scratching my head and other various parts, checking the mirror as I passed through to the toilet. After that bit of necessary business, I went back to brush my teeth and shave. Gibson stood on the vanity with a straight razor and something resembling a barber’s chair sitting in the floor.

  “Ready for your shave, Seth?” he chirped without fear, brandishing the razor high. I chuckled and fell into the chair, leaning forward to wash my face first.

  “Aren’t you afraid of cutting me with a straight-razor? Wouldn’t you rather work with a safety-razor?” I asked, patting my face dry.

  “Is a safety-razor one of those things with the thin strips of steel blades?” Gibson asked, nodding toward a recess in the wall.

  “Yep.”

  “I think I would cut you to pieces with one of those, but I have practiced with this, Seth. Don’t worry, sir,” he said confidently. He picked up a cup and brush combination and hopped over to the chair, to a two-inch runner that followed the armrest all the way round. Operating some buttons along that channel by standing on them, he stirred the brush in the cup as the chair slowly eased me back. I figured the chair was probably exquisitely calibrated to me—everything else was—so I relaxed into it and let it put me where Gibson needed me.

  “What about a trim? Can you do that, too, or should I call Shrank again?” I asked, feeling a sort of scaffolding fold around my chest. Gibson climbed a few steps then out onto
the scaffold.

  “Certainly, Lord, either of us can,” he said sweetly, starting to brush my face with a warm, rich lather. “We both spent a week in the barbershop in the Garrison and investigated with great curiosity the grooming habits of man.” He leaned back on the scaffold while twirling his brush in the cup again. He kept going smoothly. “Frankly, we didn’t believe they had any, but this was just as you ordered the humans to talk to the faery. It seems the barbershop is one of those places where men talk easily and openly. Often, the shop would flow with both men and brownies talking about experiences and preferences in just about everything. I was amazed at what I learned about my own people during that time, as well as yours.”

  With half my face lathered, Gibson set the cup and brush down and hopped to the counter. Retrieving the razor and a towel, he was back in less than a second, tails flapping behind him. He began lifting the lather off my skin with swift, sure movements, as fast at taking it off as putting it on. Folding the towel, he brushed lightly at some leftover lather. Exchanging implements, he lathered the other side of my face and started talking again.