Ancient Kings (The Young Ancients) (43 page)

The giant ruler stood then, which got everyone else to as well, even the old people that sat around the sides of the room.

"Very well. George, please see that the shield is dropped as Sir Torrance requests and work out how to make this run as smoothly as possible. Everyone else..." He bowed, since that was the job it seemed, which got everyone to do it back, except Connie, who simply stood next to him, looking far too pretty for comfort. "I dislike giving orders to my Counts and Countesses, but this is an emergency. If you would all ready yourselves and wait, either in the front receiving room, or your personally assigned rooms, we'll try to speed this along. I understand that you'll all wish to return to your Counties to make ready at once, but to prevent the normal infighting for pride of place, may I suggest that the ten furthest distances that need to be traveled go first. If there is a dispute as to that, please flip a coin. Once only." there was a soft chuckle at the words, tense situation or not.

Then Tor walked out of the room briskly, which got the other Knights to all follow him. Even General Thorgas and Smythe, who weren't strictly needed for this part of things. Their jobs would need to see them outside the safety of the Palace though. It kind of made sense to go all at once.

At the door Tor stopped, Cordes taking control. For a bit, a moment, he thought the Ancient King was going to say something that would get him in trouble, or even make some good point, but the man just made him bow, going low, as the others passed him. It was toward the entire room and no one bowed back, but several people nodded at him. Then he rose and followed the rest of them out.

He was the most junior Knight there, after all. It was his place to do that kind of thing on leaving. Cordes helpfully provided that bit of information, but, as he pointed out, it was something that Tor already knew. Burks had told him about that part of things years ago, on his very first trip to the Capital.

It was a bit shocking, but everyone moved so fast then that it was nearly a run, scurrying through the halls, with several Royal Guards meeting them at the door, almost as if magic had been used.

George started to bow, but Kolb waved him up briskly.

"No need for that between us. Today we're all Knights here. Do you and your people have a plan for this kind of evacuation?"

The fit looking man nodded, his livery looking pressed and sharp, but Tor could sense the magic behind that. Not his though. It was a field designed to keep wrinkles out of clothing. A good one too. Whoever made it was a master of their craft.

"In this case we'll use the northern gate first, and inform you of the change in plans, if any, when you return to make the pick-up. The packages will be gathered and herded through the shield as rapidly as possible, with the craft ready to go on the other side. When you have them all assembled, one of you should signal to us by holding your hands in the air, thusly." Two large and callused hands went up, then made fists. That way it wouldn't look like anyone was surrendering, but it would show that no one had a weapon out first. Not that it would matter much. All the Royal Guards would be wearing shields. "Then we go as fast as possible."

It was a good enough plan. Simple, and no doubt very little like what would happen as people tried to throw their luggage in the back and ask if drinks would be served. Timon's service did that. Even providing meals for the flight to keep people comfortable and busy. It wasn't a horrible plan, but might just be a bit much to ask given everything that day. Maybe he could pick up a basket of bread or something? Just in case people forgot to eat.

Tor nodded and looked up at the man, his face set.

"
We
should leave from some other place then, so that if anyone thinks to attack later they won't know exactly where to set up. Is everyone up to climbing over some rubble? We can go through the shield wall in the back. I have that set up as the prison right now." Those people would need food too. Last meals and all that. So really good quality stuff.

It was a bit of a dismal thought, but the General at least seemed to think he was brilliant.

"You got use of that? You didn't just commandeer the place did you? That might not go over well at all. I looked into picking one of those up for my retirement villa. Debri house suggested that they could procure one for me, for about half a million gold. A bit beyond my pensioner's stipend I'm afraid." The words didn't seem upset about it at least, even though that was way too much, in Tor's estimation.

They all walked directly back, literally scrambling over the fallen wall, slabs and charred chunks of which lay all over the back lawn. It was all a uniform tan color. There in front of them was the purple and gold glowing rectangle of the new prison structure, visible through the floating river that dipped down, about a hundred feet away from the Palace shield. Part of it still existed, at the bottom, making a nice seven feet of barrier there. For half a second it seemed like it might be a problem, but no one said anything at all. Then, the rest of them were all tall people.

George walked with them, but clearly wasn't going. His job was inside after all. Protecting the King and Royal family. If they were all still there. It wouldn't shock him to learn that the Heir and the others had been removed for safety. After all, if the King fell, someone had to take his place.

Smythe looked at the others and then George, his face set and a bit ashen.

"If you would signal your people when we get to the shield, we'll run through at best speed. Then it can be put back up immediately." He sounded hard. Commanding. Like he ran things or something.

Tor grinned, even if the day was too grim for that kind of thing. It had to look half insane, but no one called him on it, just moving along as they were.

The whole thing took about ten seconds, George waiting for a wave from Smythe, everyone running about fifty feet when Tor said the field was gone and then stopping, letting it go back up. It wasn't visible right now, not even as a distortion, but if you paid attention, and had the skill, you could feel it. The dome of it was a little rough, actually, instead of smooth, faceted like a jewel and slightly uneven. That had to do with how the components had been placed though, since there were hundreds of them, little mistakes had been made. That was life though. It still worked, so no one complained much. Plus, they couldn't see it.

He'd been afraid that Smythe or Thorgas might find it awkward to get over the wall, but they just put on flying gear and lofted the debris. It was strange, but they all had it. Kolb and Karen followed suit and Tor just lifted into the air, using his mentally commanded Not-Flyer. Out of all of them only Thorgas seemed impressed though. The rest of them had seen the trick before.

"The wonders of the modern world. I don't suppose you have more of those for sale? I wasn't aware there were flying devices that didn't require hand controls." He seemed impressed, which was always nice. It beat having people hate him when they thought he wasn't looking at any rate.

"This is actually a new kind of Not-Flyer. I haven't gotten a chance to make mental controls for flying rigs or vehicles, though it's in the plans. I'll try to get you some for your unit." Then he stopped, realizing that the man would have no way to pay for it. It was a pain, but he had to make some kind of arrangement, or he just wouldn't take it at all. "The men getting them will have to do some extra work. Helping orphans in their off time, planting trees, that kind of thing. If they want the units."

The man actually smiled at him as they got to the back wall of the new prison structure.

"I'd heard you were generous, Lord Baker, but that...
Very
correct. So you'll allow the rent on the devices to be good works?"

Tor nearly said that he'd meant they could earn the things, but the economics of that wouldn't work and people would feel indebted to him if he did that. It was pretty clear that people hated feeling that way, wasn't it? They needed a chance to earn things on their own. He'd been told that, over and over again, but it was hard to remember at times.

"That's right. I'll pass them along to Lord Smythe first, for disposition, but I'm sure that you'll really have to do all the work that way. Since it's your idea and all that." Holding up a single hand he touched the purple of the flat, glasslike wall and made a door appear. It had a hallway behind it and would lead to the central area inside. There were clear spots along the way to stop people from easily escaping, but he didn't explain that. They had a straight shot into the place, and he'd make it vanish behind them. It made it a lot less likely that anyone would just accidentally walk away. Poor souls.

It was an odd detour to make, but Smythe stopped everyone, even though they had a time schedule, and looked into one of the empty cells as they passed it.

"Are they all like this?" He didn't seem too angry about it at least. Tor probably would have snapped at him if he had. It was just the stress of the day though, so he nodded.

"Yes. Unless the girls have changed any of them. They got water in, so the prisoners can bathe. Or, I guess, drown themselves if they want. I hope not. That would be distressing. Most of them are just kids after all. Maybe I can talk the King into death by cutter. That won't hurt as much as hanging." He shuddered a bit at the thought, which made him look and feel weak, but Karen patted him reassuringly. She was always nice about things like that.

The Military Counselor gave Tor a very strange look then, and held it for about a minute as he walked into the space and then tested the water in the bathroom briefly.

"Very good. I doubt that Richard will actually call for death for the fighters. Unless they personally committed direct treason. Most soldiers don't actually care who they're fighting, and might even be relieved that they didn't succeed in killing anyone of high station. Do you plan to call for any deaths?"

Tor blinked and furrowed his brow hard enough that Karen had to hid her grin with a hand, so as to not offend him. Not that it would have. He got that it had to be ridiculous.

"Me? Why? Did they try to bomb or attack my house?" The idea suddenly worried him greatly, but the men all laughed at it, if only a bit.

"No, no, nothing like that. It can happen after a battle though. A man enraged insisting on death and assuring it happens, regardless of what's best for others. Not a problem here. I didn't really think it would be, but it can be hard to know what you're thinking at times, Tor."

There didn't seem to be a need to answer, so he led them to the front, were Melisa and Harper were on duty, having set up cushioned chairs behind a large table that had sign-in papers on it. Harper stood instantly, which left Melisa looking at the paper in front of her, eyes closing as Tor watched. Her hair was falling ever so slightly into her eyes.

Without thinking about it he held up one finger and whispered to the other girl.

"Report?"

She looked a bit scared by all the people, but didn't let it stop her from pulling the papers from the other girl's fingers. Then she laid it out flat and turned it so that he could read it.

"Three more came in, which makes thirty-one of them so far. We took names, ranks and the military force they serve with. One of them won't give us that information, but he seems too young to really be in uniform. We just locked him up. Or, well, the soldiers did when they came. We didn't actually do it
ourselves
."

"Good. We'll... Send someone in a while to relieve you both, so you can get some sleep. If one of us doesn't come with them personally, don't let them have control of the place. Call for help at least and keep your shields on. I'll try to come, but it might be someone else." In other words, he had no clue what to tell them and that load of manure was better than sucking his thumb or just saying nothing to the kids at all.

Not that they weren't adults, they just looked young.

Harper looked embarrassed, but she spoke anyway.

"Um, is it possible to get some food? We haven't eaten for a while and... the prisoners..."

Right. Tor wanted to roll his eyes, but couldn't fault the girl at all, what was she supposed to do about it?

"I'll see if I can get something in. It might be a bit. Sorry about that. War and all, you know. Annoying, isn't it?" He tried for charming and managed well enough that the girl looked down and then back at him, flirting a bit, even though that wasn't his intent at the moment.

"Thank you... Sir."

Then he found himself propelled toward the front door by Kolb, who had actually remembered their current task.

Tor had to run a bit to avoid falling flat on his face. Luckily, he was needed to get the door open, so everyone else had to slow down.

If it was quiet and almost restful inside the makeshift holding area, outside was just the opposite. On the good side they didn't have far to go in their search for either the Secret Army or the Flyers Corps. They were staged about two hundred feet in front of the wall. It was a decently large amount of people, since a group of men and women, mostly armed with wooden tool handles, had come out to help defend the city. There had to be close to five hundred of them, all dressed in various city type outfits.

They were also loud. Not bombs and explosions noisy, but that babble that a lot of people chatting created without realizing it. They were still excited, though all the soldiers and even the kids from the school, who were off to the left with their Instructors and the Secret Army, even though they didn't know it, were more subdued and calm.

Smythe made a face, but kept his back to the crowd of people that had gathered and looked at his general.

"That's a poor idea. What do they think they're going to do?"

Tor didn't know himself, but Karen shrugged.

"Defend the wall, if they have to. I take your meaning though. They wouldn't last seconds if a real attack comes. Not if it was a force like we had earlier coming at us. The fighters will need food. The prisoners here too. We should set that up with them. It will give them something useful to do, and keep them off the battle line if anything else starts up. Brave people though, so we need to be careful not to insult their honor." She didn't seem convinced that sending them away was the right thing to do, but Thorgas seemed to think it was a fine idea.

He called for some men to come over and set up a system, where several flyers and a collection of city folk would go and collect food from shops and vendors.

"I hate to requisition things, but we will need food before nightfall. People will start hoarding..."

The Fast Carriage that came into view was a large silver rectangle, which probably meant it was Timon. Why he'd shown up, Tor didn't really know. Probably just curious. The thing landed right in front of them, and almost immediately Petra Ward hopped out the passenger's side, a weapon in her left hand. Held up at the sky however, since she didn't want to actually kill them. He hoped.

"All clear here?" She didn't talk to him, looking over him to see first Karen and then Kolb.

The bald man didn't answer immediately, actually looking around first, searching in all directions. Then, without saying what he was doing, used his flying rig to loft into the air, heading straight up, his feet dangling in a relaxed manner. After taking a really good look, he landed and finally answered.

"Clear. Battlefield protocols."

Then people started getting out of the vehicle. The side door opened and three more people popped out, Timon, who was driving the craft, Gerent, and beside him, Sara. Tor almost winced, but realized that, while he was a few hours late, he hadn't missed picking her up by
that
much.

No one did anything for a moment, until Timon bowed toward the general. It was strange that he missed Smythe, but he also skipped the rest of them.

"Timon Baker. Fast Transport Service. This is my brother, Gerent Lairdgren and this lady is Sara Debri, from the merchant house." Then , almost rudely, he walked directly to Tor and started talking without hesitation.

"We need to break open your vault Tor. I have goods coming in. Food, and some soldiers from other places to guard your Palace. Borrowed them from Duke Morgan. We can pay for it, but my funds are in there and Collette is off with her father, trying to arrange passage back to his Barony for him. Everyone in the City is trying to get back home suddenly." The boy looked young, but didn't give any ground in his posture, even surrounded by powerful people and giants. If anything he sounded like
he
was in charge of it all.

It wasn't a small thing, getting the coin, since Collette kind of ran that section and no one else knew how to get in to the locked room. Tor could do it, but short of turning his house off, he doubted anyone else would be able to, and right now that would catch some attention.

"Ah... Busy here. Still, if we can get things around... I need food. For here and for the prisoners in there." He pointed but didn't add more. "Also for some others. Baskets of food for later, do you know how to do that? I've heard you do something like that when you take people on longer trips."

"Glaren, your cook, does that for me. You need what... Twenty-three baskets? We have the food for it, I think. I can pass the message, but I need that gold soon or some rather delicate deals might fall through." Tim sounded a bit cold then, brutal, without even talking about anything sensitive, except the number of baskets. He was off by two, but very close. That meant he knew something, didn't it?

It took a while but they got a group of Secret Army members set up, ten of them ready to fly, and forty military men, to act as guards for the craft on the ground, for the take off and landings. That meant each Count or Countess could take up to five people with them.

Without hesitation Tor took out his little communications device and tapped the sigil for the Capital, even if it was so close he could have walked over to the shield to talk, or gone in, if the situation were different.

"Tor?" The voice was Connie's and she sounded more relaxed than she had earlier, which left him feeling better about things, for some strange reason.

Probably because he still loved her, as wrong as it was.

"Please pass the word that each Count or Countess can have no more than five people. More than that and we can't take their luggage. Thanks."

"Ooooh.
That's
going to be a problem. I'll try to see that it happens. Talk to me later?"

Tor felt a bit embarrassed at her tone, but no one looked at him funny, except Gerent.

"Uh, sure."

There was a bit of pleasant sounding speech, that honestly Tor barely kept track of, and then they broke the connection. He didn't want hard feelings with her, but also couldn't handle the whole thing at the moment. Still. It had been weeks since he'd found out they were related and his emotions were still raw and a bit stripped bare on the subject. He didn't feel that way about Varley, even though that situation should have been a lot worse for him. The girl was so closely related it was literally as if she were both his daughter
and
sister after all.

Of course, he'd never really loved her, had he?

That made a difference.

The others, being Knights and having their own matters to see too, really didn't need him for the moment, he realized, so he decided to risk doing a bit of personal business.

"I'm off to my place then. This shouldn't take but a half hour or so. Gerent..." This part was a risk, since the man had been traumatized in prison personally before and Tor had to assume wouldn't want to go back into one. "Would you take over for the rest of the day as Warden for our cells here? I need someone that is certain not to abuse the captives. Most won't be with us long..."

The look on his new brother's face was strangely hard suddenly, so Tor hurried to explain, feeling the sub-text in his field. It was a useful trick, as long as he remembered to do it.

"The current thought is that most of them will be
released
soon, after questioning. It's just that the girls running the place right now are very tired, having been up since early in the morning. I'd consider it a great favor." It was very possible that the man would say no, given everything and Tor realized that he was about to, when a wave of darkness stole over his entire body, causing the smaller man to actually shake a bit.

"I'll do it. But... I won't let anyone be harmed... no torture or anything. If you want to question them you'll have to use magic or whatever it is you do. If you..."

Tor started walking toward the cells, Timon coming with him, both at a brisk pace that forced Gerent to jog a bit to keep up. It wasn't about pushing the man, but getting a little distance from the others that stood there.

"I can't promise that. I don't control what King Richard does for instance, and it may be that he insists on it. Probably not though. What I can do is make sure that these men and women have guards that will
protect
them if it comes to it. Someone to see to their comforts, that they get fed and have clean clothing at need. That any injuries of note are treated, and that if there's a problem is willing to see to fixing it. Hence you stepping in. For all I know it might mean going toe to toe with Smythe or even Kolb. If so, you can't back down. They won't kill you for preventing injustice, but they might yell at you or something if they don't like your plans." He gave his new brother a sidelong glance, noticing that there was more nervousness than metal in his frame at the moment.

The man was still walking though. Directly toward the makeshift prison.

"I... suppose. I don't know that I'm the best one for the job though. Petra or Conserina Derring might be better. They're more suited to the task, I think. These prisoners are fighters. What if they try to escape?"

There was a cough from behind him, one that came from Petra, rather than any of the soldiers that were following her. There were ten of them. The tall, very cute fighter made a gesture with her head, tossing it to the side to indicate them.

"I think that these elite soldiers might have something to say about that, if they try." She didn't hesitate to address the one in front, who was the oldest of the lot, looking to be nearly thirty, if Tor could judge such things. "What are your orders?"

He was tall too, clearly a noble by birth. About seven feet, which meant he had a deep and rumbly voice. It was intimidating without the man even trying to be.

"We're here to act as guards and perform all tasks that the Warden requires of us, without harm to the prisoners, even if they become aggressive. General Thorgas gave the word himself." There was a sour and disbelieving look at Gerent, but he didn't let it show in his voice, even if the man was clearly offended at the idea of being left in the power of a peasant.

That was clear at least. He thought that
all
the short people on the field were beneath him, and not just physically. Even Sara, who he clearly felt attracted to.

Tor cleared his throat.

"Good. Countier Lairdgren will take that duty. In his absence the girls that have it now will be in charge. If there are any problems Gerent, take them directly to Smythe of Westend, since you'll answer to him directly in this." Looking up at the tall fellow in the lead Tor locked eyes for a bit, being glared at in return. "Take note of that. In this situation Gerent Lairdgren outranks you and is working directly for the head of the military. More to the point, if anything happens to any prisoner in your charge here, I'll hear about it and see that anyone that has done anything wrong will be punished to the full extent of the law, and King's censure." The man stiffened, and a few of the others were angry at the words, so Tor relented a bit, suddenly smiling. "Not that any of
you
would be a problem, but the standards here are high. What you do today and in the coming weeks will set the tone for this war, in a way. The eyes of the entire kingdom will be looking to you. How those vanquished are treated by our side might very well make all the difference later."

It was, of course, all sweet sounding gibberish. No one would ever really know what they did in this place, most likely, and if they did, it would be lies, almost certainly. The military flyers all stood a bit straighter then anyway, and the only problem seemed to be coming from the rather upset large fellow. He didn't voice it however, and there wasn't a lot that Tor could say to change his mind.

At the door he let them all in, and feeling awkward about it or not, all the men formed two lines, the biggest man in the front. He gestured for Gerent to join him and stood very straight, speaking with his base voice. It was clear he didn't know which of the young women he was supposed to be addressing, but it was Harper who stood again, seeming pretty intimidated. She looked at Tor though and then let her gaze linger on Gerent.

The giant bowed to her.

"Ma'am... I'm Countier Third, Jose Peterson, Major in the Royal Army, currently attached to the Elite Flyers Corps. This man next to me is Warden Lairdgren. Countier Lairdgren, currently serving under the auspice of Lord Counselor William Smythe." Then he waited, clearly expecting some kind of a response from the girl. She was in a uniform after all, after a fashion, still in her green and yellow Songbird outfit.

She rounded the table and bowed, first to Gerent and then the man in front of the lines of large black clothed men, most of whom didn't look at her at all.

"You have the duty. Shall I go over who we have here and what procedures we've put in place?"

It seemed to be going well to Tor, so he winked and stepped back a bit, figuring that the rest would work itself out. They didn't really need him there to do their jobs, he didn't think.

That meant he was able to get off to his place, along with Petra, Sara and Timon. The whole trip didn't take that long, but it did take a complex set of changes to the house to get into the room with the gold in it. It wasn't a key as much as a pattern that tried to change when you made a door, but with only a pretty deep trance state and about five minutes work he managed it. Collette had really mastered the use of the magical dwelling it seemed, since he hadn't even known that was possible to do with it, and he'd made the field himself.