by P. S. Power
"I've accepted her word on the matter. She apologized and meant it, so..." That got agreement from all the kids at least, since it was how they were raised. Even Tor seemed only a little reluctant to nod.
Well, Timon just stared a bit, but there was no heat in it, just cool regard of Carol Coltress.
She clapped, and ordered the woman outside. That way, she let them all know, there wouldn't be blood on the floor. She moved quickly and beat the woman soundly enough, but not as hard as the last time. There was calling out and some crying, but it wasn't that bad, she didn't think. She was going to wait for Bonita to say she was satisfied again, but Terry tried to tackle her. It caused his shield to go off, so she stopped, not wanting to hurt him, by mistake.
"Enough! I don't know what she did, but-"
The big shock there was that Laurie, their own mother, stepped in and hovered a hand over the boys shield.
"It was a bad enough thing that a war could have started over it, Terry. A real one. I believe that's what your sister is doing here, telling you and the others that simple message. Baroness Coltress is a grown woman, one with power, but that doesn't mean she won't have to answer for mistakes. We all need to be more careful that way now. Things are changing in the world, and doing so at a pace that is rare. Many bad things can happen at times like these." The words made her sound very old. Like she'd seen much of the past with her own eyes. It could have been from a book she once read, or something along those lines, truly, but Tiera was already primed to notice things like that in her mother now.
Tess ran and got a healing amulet, glaring at Tiera, while Carol healed up.
Then, showing a lot more adult behavior than Tiera had thought she'd have, the woman laid on the ground and begged all of them to forgive her, for what her actions had caused. Nobody moved to help her up, until Terry did, glaring at the rest of them for not acting faster.
It wasn't a great way to cap an evening, but at least her part in it should be done, as long as the Baroness didn't get out of line with her daughters again. At least not at that level.
They were led to rooms and she got one on the third floor, which was about the size of her dorm room at school, but nicely enough furnished. The bed was soft and warm, and she decided to sleep until she couldn't any more. No one bothered her or anything, so she got up before the dawn, and headed out, only to find her father leaving at almost the same time, to get the bakery ready for the day.
He started to speak to her in home tongue, so she answered the same way, the fast patter of it easier for her still than Noram standard. Not a lot, which showed how long she'd been away from her world. Her original home. It had been months now.
"A County. If you can hold it. I have to admit, it's a bit faster than I thought any of you children would do something like that. For a long time I figured that Tim would be the one for that kind of thing, but I know now that it won't happen. He won't let it. It isn't what he wants for himself. What do you have planned, really?" He looked at her sagely, seeming calm and relaxed.
She didn't answer at all, just smiling.
"Da? What did you do before you met ma? We've never met your parents or people, but you've talked about them, as if they're real and alive, just far away. Who are they? I know that you and ma had to come here, to hide, but isn't that over?" There was a rustle behind them, as Timon walked around the corner. He had a communications device out, but put it away, obviously having heard the words.
Their father nodded to him and then looked away, a bit sadly.
"I was a merchant. From a merchant family. Young, but good enough at my trade. I had to learn to bake for this you know, as did your mother. We were pretty dense about it all to begin with. Oh, how much we burned and left raw in the middle... you children would have made fun of us daily at the beginning. When the Count needed to protect her, he called on my family. A young man, perhaps not as tall as some, with a pretty young wife could fit in here. In this region."
Timon nodded, as if he'd told his life story in those few words, but Tiera couldn't work anything special out. A merchant family? There were about a hundred of those or more. It could be anyone of them.
"Sorvee?" Tim didn't add more than that, but his father lifted a single brow.
"Naturally. Who else would the Count send for the job?"
There was a chuckle then, but her brother shrugged, then looked at his sister closely, answering her questions for once, without making her beg for them or berate him.
"The Assassins Guild, more or less. A Royal Guard might have also worked, but mother would stand out in the city, and everyone would bow to one of those in Two Bends. Too tall. Here though, when she downplayed her looks, it sort of fit. No one would think to ask if anyone else here was a Conserina, would they?"
Her father tensed up in a way that even she got meant he hadn't expected that information to come out. People didn't do that when you were wrong, did they? It wasn't an accusation or anything, just a proclamation. A silly one, except that it was true, it seemed. She tried to stand away from the picture mentally and look at it like a fighter would.
Douglas Baker was wiry, but fit, especially for a tradesman in a non-physical field. Fishermen were sturdy of build too, but for a person that made bread and the occasional pie, he was hard looking. Small, but not a commoner really. Most of those actually were shorter men. It was hard to tell in their village, since a lot of the people tended to be a bit bigger than the surrounding areas. Mayor Tom wasn't a vast man, true, but his five-seven might be closer to five-nine, if he had good posture. A few others were like that as well, but all the poor farmers were small. That could have been a lack of good food as a child, but it might also mean something.
In movement he didn't seem special however. Efficient, but normal, like anyone else might be, seeming smooth in his own area, by the stove, but not as much while out and about. Which is what an assassin would be trained to be like, wasn't it?
She decided to pull a Timon and say something about it, thinking she'd probably just be wrong.
"Mayor Tom Smith? Mary Merchant? Douglas Baker? Those are fake names aren't they? Not uncommon, but most people don't have the names of their own trade really. I never noticed that before..."
Her father looked ready to bolt, which wouldn't work too well, since they knew where he lived. It was probably just habit, a lifetime of looking over his shoulder for killers, trying to protect the Count's only daughter. Tied to her, first by marriage and then in shared children. The odd thing was that they really did seem to love each other. For half a minute she nearly felt betrayed, but then had to let go of it.
There had been real reasons to begin with, and after a long enough time it probably just became habit.
Working things out she tried to get what she was obviously missing, but couldn't really see it all, though Tim seemed nearly bored. That meant he'd known some of this already? Or he was dead inside, and couldn't care anymore.
But, what if he knew? The Assassins Guild was real, and the Count could just order them around, in numbers, for the rest of their lives? Decades at least. No one had that kind of coin, if she had the going rates right. A general could do that, or the King might. So Count Lairdgren was the head of it all? But Tim knew...
"So, Timon, you've taken over already? Part of why you really married Trice?" She was dangling bait on a hook and fully expected him to not say anything like her father was, but he smiled, an actually happy thing, instead of just moving his lips.
"There it is! I knew you could work things out if you tried. Keep that quiet though, will you? I won't really be taking over for a few decades or so. I need to go and make visits now, so people know the face and name. I guess I should take da along too? Just so you can meet up with the family?"
Their father sighed and then made a slightly rueful face. It wasn't pleased, but he didn't try fleeing either.
"I suppose so. Now, I need to be off to the bakery before you work out where I hide all my weapons." He started to walk aw
ay, but, both at the same time, Tim and Tiera spoke.
"Pump house." Then they looked at each other and smiled, since it was kind of funny.
Douglas grinned.
"Not even close." Then, without saying anything else, he walked away.
They didn't chat about it, since people would eventually be around to hear and at least as far as she was concerned, they'd just found out about more of their family. It was a bit unsettling, but, so what? She had to go and see to her County now, which was a lot more so. Timon, for his part, just pulled his communications device, hit a sigil to activate a link and walked off into the brush near the house, away from everyone.
He was already at work, even if it was still dark out and she needed to be off doing the same. It was too early to be getting in touch with anyone in Bakersville, but going there would get her in... before dawn still. If nothing else she could land her craft and take a nap in it, or go for a swim in the ocean. Food would be good too, but she didn't have anything to buy it with and even raiding the bakery wasn't a real plan this time of day, they didn't even have dough ready yet.
The trip took about an hour, since she didn't have to hurry, and she landed by the Palace that she'd named her own, wondering it if was just sitting empty. It was on a nicer plot of land than she'd thought, with an actual lawn and a large wall around it already. Focus stone, meaning it was real, but it looked good. A nice tan color, though deep black in places. Two men with uniforms that were in her colors and had pikes scrambled to get into place, but didn't scream at her, just husking their commands.
"Halt! This is the Palace of Countess Baker. Trespassing is not allowed." The man didn't sound angry at least, which was a good sign. Just efficient, and like he really wanted to do a good job of things.
She nodded and smiled at him, which got one in return at least. Her clothing was kind of plain, since she'd come to work, meaning black trousers and tunic, and the hair that was showing was her fighters cut, not the long locks of the parties she'd been to. That didn't matter really, she knew. They'd never seen her picture, she didn't think. That meant they had no way in the world of knowing who she was at all.
"Very good, this time. From now on however, if someone lands in a craft of magic like this, go ahead and let them in. For right now you should know that I'm Countess Baker. I don't suppose anyone from the school is still here?" She wasn't hopeful, but the men both nodded.
"Yes... Countess. I'm sorry we didn't recognize you?" It was a question, and the sun was just coming up, so getting someone to confirm her identity might be a problem.
She could have, very easily, torn into them. It was her house, and they were her own guards. It seemed almost reasonable, but in this age of magic, she might have been almost anyone, if they had the right tools. Even a description might not work given that. Possibly even if she were just carefully selected to infiltrate, and got a haircut to fit the role. Tiera pulled her Truth amulet and stated her name and title. The men seemed relieved, at least.
It wasn't lost on her that they were at least trying to be polite about it all, even when it was clear they hadn't had a clue who she was.
"Don't worry, we'll talk later. I honestly need to get with Lawrence Morris, but I don't want to knock on anyone's door this early. So... how do you two feel things are going so far? Please speak freely. I might get mad, but rumors to the contrary, I hardly ever kill anyone over it." She smiled using the one she thought of as her "little innocent girl" look. The hair would throw it off a bit, but the men seemed to soften even more at least and the one on her left spoke, his voice still soft.
"Rocky, Countess. The new businesses are going up, services are being started again, and most are hopeful, but they don't know that you're... well, this isn't coming from me, mind, but some are saying you might not be totally sane, for all that you're doing all you have been. Folks are saying that you might be prone to the bad rage, or just not right in the head. Begging your pardon. Then those same voices, as often as not at least, claimed the old Count beat his wife, and was too often into his drink. It might be true, but the same could be said of anyone you don't know. After all, who can defend a person like that?"
The other man gave the speaker a funny look and rolled his eyes.
"There's also talk of shortages. We have food from the sea and growing here is easy, most years, so few are hungry, but solid metal goods have become hard to find. We don't have mining here, in the County. Just a few small ones that get pretty rocks, but not much else. People aren't really feeling the lack, not at this point, but the prices are up. On alcohol too, and that hurts morale. The old Count, he raised the taxes on it so high we near on can't afford a single bottle a month, and we're making more than most." Then he swallowed and grinned, which was kind of cute. He was only about twenty-five or so, meaning not way too old for her.
Especially here, since her words was actually law.
"Metal and alcohol? I'll look into that. If you hear anything else, let me know? I can't give bonuses yet, but so far you're both on top of my list to consider for promotions."
That, for some reason, got both men to stand straighter, and look proud.
Now if only the rest of the day would be as simple.
Chapter nine
Feeling a lot more like a thief sneaking into someone else's house than entitled to be there, Tiera went into the rather nice and large palace. The outer steps were made to look like marble, and the door, while not too heavy to open, was a different kind of stone, that someone had taken time to refine greatly, with a nice, but simple pattern made of diamond shapes in it. There were two very tall columns holding up a covered porch as well. What it looked like on top was beyond her, at least at this time of day, the roof having simply been dark when she landed.
The theme followed on in that vein inside, she noticed. Lots of stone, with the occasional carpet of deep green on the floor, with sky blue in places. That was used sparingly, since the two colors, while not horrible together, weren't exactly perfect either. Then, she hadn't picked them to look good, but to show where she'd come from. If it was a little less than ideal, well, so apparently was she.
Tiera didn't make it out of the front room before a man, who wasn't good looking at all, but had a nice uniform on in her colors, and a strong looking gray mustache to go with it, scurried over to her from out of the room, his eyes wide. He also had a cup in his hand and from the sleepy look on his face she didn't guess it was for her.
"Morning Miss. Sorry, I didn't hear you knock." He spoke as soon as he stopped and didn't sound upset at all, or at least not accusing toward her, which was good enough. "May I help you with something? Do you need a room, or perhaps breakfast? Or other aid that we may provide?"
Tiera decided to like the man right then. For all he knew she was breaking in, and here he was offering to get things for her. She almost asked for all the silver, but doubted that she had anything like that yet.
"Some food would be wonderful. I know it's early, so just whatever we can scrounge up would be fine. I'm mainly waiting for Lawrence Morris to have a chance to wake up, or at least daylight, so that I don't seem like a total freak when I pound on his door. You know how that goes, obviously. You're awake too. Just starting your day?"
"Oh, yes miss." He didn't seem upset by the conversation topic at least and gestured without comment for her to follow him, speaking in low tones. "I haven't been given a lot of instruction as to how I'm to arrange my days as of yet, being that the situation is so new. I've held the staff to a strict four-thirty wake up however, just in case. Better to be here and unneeded than to be tucked in our beds during a crises." He seemed chatty, given the early hour, and explained a lot about what was going on without being prompted. "We have some guests here, but not that many for a household this size. Given the plague and the rebellion, that's only to be expected so far."
The dining room wasn't huge, but was nicely appointed, with a large linen covered table that looked to be made of real wood in highly polishe
d oak, and a white covering on it. Tiera wasn't a master builder, but even she could tell it was real. Why they'd bother when the house could make them, she didn't know. Or ask. She wasn't going to second guess the man in front of her. If he thought they needed a real table, then it would be that way.
"I'm afraid there might be a wait for a proper breakfast. The kitchen is active, but at this hour we're only set up for the servants' meal. Hardly proper for a guest." He stopped and blinked a little, then bowed. "Sorry, I forgot my manners!"
Tiera bowed back, but got it wrong, going a bit too deep. It marked them as equals, so the man relaxed a lot, which was good as far as that went, but got her an offer to sit with the rest of the staff, if she wanted to meet them.
"That sounds... Good actually. Yes, let's do that. We should make sure that the guards out front get something as well, if they haven't. Any others around here too." It was an offhand statement, but the man didn't question it, even if she was short and funny looking with her close cropped hair. He just nodded.
"I'll see to that. This way please."
There was actual bustle in the back room behind the kitchen, with plain bread rolls being set out along with bowls of oat potage, and what seemed to be plentiful coffee. That part was expensive, and didn't match the rest of the meal at all. Why not have finer food too? She nearly asked, when the man that had met her gestured to a seat next to his, which was at the head of the table. The butler's position, she guessed. Then, he was the holder of the house for the servants, which was about right.
"Misty, could you see to a bowl and a roll for our young friend here? I'm sorry, I didn't get your name. I'm Clemance. The woman with the pot there is Misty, the head cook, then we have our footmen, Ronal and Steven. On the other side we have the chamber maids and Mrs. Holst, who's to be the Countesses personal attendant." That last got Tiera to mark the face. She was an older woman, who looked a bit prim, but tidy and alert, given the time of day. The women next to her, the maids who didn't get names yet, were three women in their twenties, who all looked to be commoners by blood. Dark and small.
