The Entean Saga - The Complete Saga

by C B Williams

  “Surly there are others to help you. You know, with the details.”

  She ran her hand down her braid, absently noting it had dried. “Of course there are people to do what I tell them to do. But without Flick, I don’t have anyone to make the rules with. The laws. It’s gone beyond what I learned from Wren.” She paused. “Truth be told, I think it’s beyond Flick, too.” She tried to hold her complaints back, but it just felt too good to let it go.

  “How long have you been feeling like this?” Max asked. He seemed concerned. No sparkle in his eyes this time when she glanced over at him. Just concern.

  She relaxed further. “A couple of months. I’ve been limping along, but I just can’t do it anymore. People want to know how to behave. They want—”

  “—rules and guidelines,” Max finished for her.

  “Exactly. And I’m not a rule maker. Never wanted to be.”

  Max studied her in silence. “What do you want to be, Mouse?” he asked softly.

  Mouse blinked. Nobody had ever asked her that before. Ever. She wondered why. She willed her brain to think, but it appeared to have shut down. “I-I’m not sure, really. Haven’t thought about it.” She laughed. She could tell it didn’t sound like a happy laugh. Too bitter. “For the longest time, all I’ve ever wanted was to survive.”

  “Well, you should think about it. Have some more tea.” He refilled her cup. “If you don’t know what you want, you won’t ever get it.” He refilled his own and set the pot down. He lifted his cup, took a sip, and sank back into his chair. “What you need, Mouse, is an Ingot.”

  Ingot’s bland, nondescript features drifted through her mind. “Ingot? But he works for you.”

  “And he always will if I have anything to say about the matter. No, not Ingot. An Ingot. You need someone who answers solely to you and has exceptional organizational skills.” He leaned forward, set his mug on the tray, rose to his feet and stretched. “Time to get ready. You and that beast of yours may stay here if you like. Finish your tea. Relax in that chair. Or take a little wander in my gardens. I won’t be long.”

  “Won’t be long?”

  “Yes, maybe an hour, hour and a half at most,” he said as he made his way out of the room.

  “An hour? Hour and a half?”

  He paused in the doorway and turned. “I’m going with you, Mouse. I’m going to be your Ingot.”

  He waited for her reaction.

  She greeted him with wide-eyed silence.

  He followed her gaze and looked down. With a laugh, he re-tied his gaping robe and left the room, shouting for Ingot.

  Chapter 2

  It wasn’t that Mouse was plain, Max mused while he organized his packing. Rather, it was that when she smiled, the transformation was so stunning, so radical, she normally appeared plain by comparison. She was actually a pretty little thing, with her dark, somber eyes and heart-shaped face. A pretty and deadly little thing, who had the ability to fade into the background.

  Intriguing.

  Max loved women. In his considerably long life, he’d sampled quite a few. In fact, he fancied himself a connoisseur. Early on he discovered that if he paid attention to a woman, actually listened to her and asked questions to learn her deepest hopes and dreams, he eventually wound up in bed with her. He had made it a game, had honed his skills until it became too easy (way too easy) for him to have any woman he wanted. Over the years he lost interest. It was more challenging to apply those same skills he’d learned with women to grow his empire.

  Until now.

  For whatever reason, Max was quite curious about this deadly little Mouse, who no longer wished to kill, but didn’t know what she did want. He wondered if he could draw it out of her and felt himself smile.

  Mouse brought out the cat in him.

  He thought back to how he’d caught Mouse staring at his torso and whatever else his gaping robe had revealed. He couldn’t help laughing all over again.

  “Sir?” Ingot said.

  Max waved a dismissive hand. “Something I just thought of. You know how to reach me, correct? My private communicator?”

  “Yes, sir, but do you think it wise to leave at this time?”

  Max nodded. “Especially at this time.”

  Mouse stretched out her legs and glanced over at her traveling companion. Feeling shy about flying with an audience, she had asked Manabu to fly them back over the mountains to Rubble. Since the shuttle was being buffeted by the updrafts in the midafternoon heat, she was glad she had. She knew her limits.

  For the first portion of their journey, she’d been watching out the shuttle window, idly toying with Little Brother’s ears. She liked hearing his rumbles of pleasure. They helped her feel peaceful.

  But once they left the mountains behind, her thoughts drifted back to the mountains of unsolved issues waiting for her. Which made her think of Max. “Why are you here?” she asked him suddenly.

  He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve already told you. To be your Ingot. To teach you how to delegate. Find you your own Ingot. Nothing more.”

  She narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “I know you, Max. You don’t do anything unless there is some value in your doing it.” She looked into his dark, dark eyes, suddenly wishing Eloch hadn’t made him a young man again as her attention drifted to his full lower lip. She bit her own and looked down at Little Brother, stroking his muzzle.

  “That creature—”

  “Little Brother is not a creature.”

  “Whatever. He follows you like a shadow.”

  She smiled down at Little Brother and nodded. “Wren assigned him to me, and he takes his job very seriously.” She looked up at Max. “He’s good company, and I know you’re trying to distract me, so answer my question now, please.”

  “Very well. I’m playing a game.”

  She drew her brows together. “A game.”

  “Yes, a game.”

  “What kind of a game?”

  “My people have been reporting rather disturbing news.” He sent her a sidelong glance. “As you know, our Champion destroyed our seat of government when he abolished The Ring. For the past six months or so, our fallen government officials have been scrambling for positions in the new governing system, of which I am its esteemed leader.”

  “Shouldn’t you stay in The City to supervise, then? Doesn’t seem like the timing is right.”

  “It’s the perfect timing. While I’m away, my network of spies will be watching and listening. They’ve caught wind of a conspiracy, but can’t tell yet whether it originates from Spur or somewhere else. With me safe and out of harm’s way, they will begin to infiltrate the conspirators, target the heads, watch and learn.”

  “But why not call upon Flick? Let Spur settle the matter.”

  He grinned at her. “Where’s the fun in that?” He laughed at her expression. “If I didn’t think I could handle this, I would call our Champion. But I can. And you can be my bodyguard while I gather the information I need to stop this little coup before it gets out of hand. And to help pass the time I can help you get organized. Yes, My Mouse, I find the timing exceedingly perfect. The City Cat visits the Country Mouse.”

  “Isn’t that supposed to be City Mouse?”

  He eyed her until she felt the heat rising to her face.

  “I would hardly call myself a mouse, Mouse.”

  Max had never been off-planet, although what he had been able to salvage of his network of spies and his black market empire ranged over several planets in the now-defunct Ring. However, were he to go off-planet, Max did not believe he would ever find a more beautiful spot than here, on Spur. Rubble was flourishing. Slowly, signs of the old, abandoned buildings were disappearing, by green, rolling hills dotted with flowers, plowed fields, and little towns and hamlets.

  “Charming,” he murmured as he gazed out his open window overlooking the square. “Absolutely charming.” The slanting rays of the sun turned the flowers in the window boxes to even deeper shades of red, pink, a
nd blue.

  The town, fast becoming a bustling city, was teeming with life. Vendors hawked their wares, calling to passersby from beneath brightly colored awnings. Farmers shouted at their oxen, which pulled carts laden with mounds of hay, apples, or vegetables. Children darted here and there, playing tag. One child herded a gaggle of geese with the help of a stick and a small yellow dog.

  He was astonished how quickly the landscape had been populated with animals, plants, and rustic dwellings. As if they had been there for years and years.

  He was well aware of Spur’s power to create. But still.

  It boggled the mind.

  “No wonder Mouse is overwhelmed,” he muttered as he turned from the window to continue his unpacking. A flash of annoyance swept through him when he thought how much responsibility had been literally dumped on her slim shoulders. “And no wonder she looks so exhausted and thin,” he added to himself.

  Surprisingly, his room was comfortable, modern, and on a par with his usual standards. He never considered his love of luxuries a fault. It was who he was.

  The wide bed was covered with quilted silk jacquard, the same midnight blue as the walls. A cream trim kept the room bright and clean in appearance. An ornate dark cherry armoire had been readied to receive his clothing and smelled of cedar and lemon. A matching desk sat under one of the two wide windows where he arranged his communication devices just so.

  And the bathing pool was large enough for two. Images came to mind which he quickly tucked away within its recesses as he transferred his toiletries to the shelves intended for that purpose. He even found a bidet in the water closet. Yes, he was very satisfied.

  After he unpacked, Max stored his luggage under the bed and returned to the window, this time to observe. He leaned his forearms on the windowsill and assessed the scene below.

  It was where Mouse found him two hours later when she came to fetch him for dinner.

  She studied him.

  He was wearing a brocade jacket, the same jacket he’d worn when she first met him over a year ago. It looked better on him now he had no paunch. He was intent with whatever he was watching, as if his whole body was observing, not just his eyes. He was a cat, she decided, thinking of their previous conversation. He moved like one, kept still like one. City Cat.

  She cleared her throat. “I knocked,” she said when he turned toward her. “You didn’t hear me, so I came in.”

  “I heard you.”

  She waited for him to say something more, but he just watched her with hooded eyes. She cleared her throat again. “What were you doing?”

  “Observing.” he said as he closed the window and drew the dark curtains together.

  “Observing what?”

  “How your town conducts itself,” he said while he smoothed his jacket and adjusted his cuffs. “Looking for patterns, for what’s working, for what can be improved upon. There’s quite a traffic jam around dusk with the vendors closing up, people making their way home, and others filling their water bladders at the fountain.”

  She made a face. “One of the many things that has been brought to my attention.”

  “Why don’t all the homes have running water?”

  “Because when we first began to build, we didn’t have the city architects we have now. Spur hadn’t released any from beyond the mountains. Claimed She didn’t like the way they built.”

  “I think installing running water and plumbing should be a high priority. It would cut down on foot traffic crossing the streets. The fountain could be used as a refreshing oasis on hot days.”

  She considered that. “Or we could reroute the traffic. Or both.”

  “It would be hard to reroute traffic since this area is the center of the township, and all roads lead to this town square.”

  “What if we build other roads, like the ripples from a stone when you throw it in a pond? Or a spider web?”

  He grinned, walking toward her. “Like a dart board or a target. Now you’re thinking.”

  “But what about those people who’ve already built a home where a circular road would be?”

  “Well, they’d have to be relocated, wouldn’t they? We would make it to their advantage to do so. You just have to know how to offer them a choice that really isn’t a choice.”

  She puffed out her breath in frustration. “You make it sound so easy.”

  “It is when you treat it as a game. Don’t look so concerned.” He reached out and smoothed the crease between her eyebrows. “I’ll teach you. Did you come to fetch me for dinner?”

  She nodded.

  “Shall we go?” He offered her his arm.

  She took it, feeling a little foolish. She wasn’t some UpperUpper dressed in her finery. She was Mouse, still wearing her assassin’s greys because she didn’t have anything else to wear. “Do you like your room?” she asked.

  He smiled down at her and covered her hand with his own. “Comfort at its best. And lovely. Superbly appointed. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I were back in The City.”

  She felt the heat from her blush. “You really like the way it’s decorated?”

  “I do.” He narrowed his eyes at her, “You had something to do with it, didn’t you?”

  She grinned. “Before Wren left, she and I designed this whole building and had Flick make it for us with Spur’s power.”

  His brows shot up. “I’m impressed, My Mouse. My room is tailored for comfort. I’ll have to study the rest of rooms.”

  “We wanted to make a statement to those first arriving and, in the future, for those coming for business purposes and the like. This is the private sector. There’s a whole other section that functions as lodgings for traveling merchants. We wanted people to start believing in Spur’s power, that our life here in Rubble was just as good—no, better—than that of the UpperUppers.”

  When they entered the dining room, she saw Max’s eyes widen while he took in the five chandeliers hanging over the huge table. It could have seated nearly thirty people. The two places set for them looked rather forlorn.

  “Yes,” he said, “extremely impressed.”

  He guided Mouse to her chair and helped her to sit before taking his own seat across from her.

  Mouse smiled at him. “Ready?”

  “For dinner? When am I not ready to dine?”

  Mouse laughed “Then let’s eat,” she said, and pressed the buzzer installed at the hostess’s place with her foot.

  It sent a silent signal to the staff waiting to deliver their meal.

  Mouse kept a sharp eye on Max’s actions as they ate. Back in SubCity, Wren had tried very hard to teach them how to speak and behave as UpperUppers, so they could someday blend and move off-planet. Mouse had never been able to understand what Wren was talking about. Eating was eating. Clothes were clothes.

  But the more she watched Max, the more she began to see what Wren meant. There was a certain grace in his movements. It made eating more like a dance. As she emulated him, she discovered she was slowing down and tasting the food more, appreciating it more.

  “Tell me, Mouse,” Max began. “Why do you suppose Spur doesn’t create all the buildings the same way She did this one? It would make everyone’s lives easier.”

  Mouse chewed carefully and swallowed before she answered. “I thought about that myself. And the answer I came up with was because it would deprive the architects and builders of their means of livelihood. People need to do things to feed themselves. Besides, it’s fun.”

  “Fun?”

  “Sure. Wren and I loved planning this building. I’m sure someone else would have enjoyed building it. But we were in a hurry, so Spur took over.”

  “I bet that was fun, too. Watching it appear from nothing.”

  Mouse nodded. “It was magical.”

  Chapter 3

  Over the next several days, Mouse took Max to visit all the major sections of town, as well as the surrounding areas where new towns were springing up almost overnight. If there wa
s one thing that could be said about the people of Spur, it was that they knew how to build. The problem was getting them to build within a plan for permanence. These towns, no matter the size, were being built to comfortably house people for centuries to come. It was a new concept.

  Max watched Mouse’s eyes light up while she explained some of the concepts she and two of the more forward-thinking architects were designing.

  “You like this,” he commented. “Architectural design.”

  “I do.” She sounded surprised, and quickly changed the subject. “I want you to see our food stores now. This is the one area where we actually don’t have a problem. Skip’s amazing.”

  It didn’t take him long to realize that Skip was “that Skip,” the Skip who betrayed Wren’s KinFolk. Instead of killing him, as was his due, Wren had cut out his tongue. Apparently she made the right decision, for Skip seemed to be the only one who appeared to have even an ounce of organizational and managerial skills.

  “There’s your Ingot,” he told Mouse after she led him away.

  “Who, Skip?”

  “Skip. If it were me, I would pull him from his responsibilities and put him in…” He paused. “What do you think is the least organized area?”

  Mouse snorted. “Easy. My office. I have no time to organize it because all I’m doing is putting out fires.”

  “Then put Skip in your office. Have him make sense of it all for you. He’ll systematize it, just as he’s done with the food stores.”

  “But what about them? They’ll fall apart without Skip.”

  “No, they won’t, because he’s systemized it. He’s got a procedure. All anyone needs is to be smart enough to follow his procedures. Put one of his sons in charge.”

  “But they’re only boys!”

  “Only boys? What were you doing when you were their age?”

  He watched her expression change to one of comprehension. “Skip is your Ingot, Mouse.”

  She sighed. “And here I thought I wouldn’t have to ever learn that crazy sign language and the grunts he uses.”