Authors: P. S. Power
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic
Gerent retrieved the weapon and
then offered it to the other man, who was shaking in fear. He didn't blame him.
Death wasn't exactly the best option most days. On this one it was, so he held
the weapon out, waiting for an attack to come. For the desperate and tough man
to strike out or run, seeking life.
The man just echoed the moves of
the other however, and knelt, blood from his cohort pooling on the dirt, not
soaking in yet.
"Mary!" With that word
he ended his own life, his head falling faster.
Gerent wondered who Mary was. His
wife? A lover? Or perhaps a child? He doubted that he'd ever really know.
Everyone bowed their heads, somber and possibly a little sick feeling. He
felt... Very little for the men. They'd gotten lucky, actually, that he'd been
there.
Hanging
had been put for as a prize for them. A way of saying
that, while criminals, they weren't evil. That they didn't deserve torture for
what they'd done.
They
did
, but it wouldn't
help anyone now. Letting them end their own lives, almost painlessly, wasn't
for them really. Or for Petra. She didn't strike him as a cruel person, but she
may well have wanted them to suffer for what they'd done more.
No, this was for the other
guards, even if they didn't know it. The ones watching, so that they wouldn't
walk around in endless fear, thinking that following orders would have them end
without anything. Not even their honor.
Tovey stepped toward the Baron
and bowed, then spoke calmly, as if the whole thing had been planned.
"Please see that they are
buried with full respect, and that their loved ones know that this had to be
done? It's a dark thing..." The man just stepped back, moving in close to
his wife, who seemed to be going into shock. She was pale and looked ready to
fall down. Except that she didn't.
They managed to get back to the
craft fast enough, since for some reason no one wanted to stay for a meal,
though the old Baron offered. It was clear that he didn't really want to do it,
but it was incredibly polite of the man, considering they'd descended on him
and killed two of his people. Or, well,
they
hadn't done it, but that
was splitting hairs, as far as Gerent was concerned. Before they left Count
Peterson took the man aside and seemed to be explaining the whole thing. That
might not make any difference later, but then again, what did he know? Maybe it
would let the old man sleep that night, not wondering if he'd failed to prevent
something evil from happening.
Getting back up to the ship was
interesting, since Count Harris wanted to try flying around for a while, and
even suggested that they call it a day. Everyone else seemed to agree with that
thought too, except Gerent. They, the others, were the important ones for the
mission however, so if that was what they wanted, then it would have to do.
Thinking about it, he shrugged.
"I can probably make another
trip to Harmony then, and make certain that I have everything set up there.
Should we meet again in the morning? Tomorrow, I mean? There are three more to
see to."
He didn't want the others to just
walk away. Not simply because everyone felt bad for the men. That was... Insane
wasn't really the case, but it was also wrong. They may have thought they'd had
orders, but that couldn't excuse them harming someone. Not really. Not in the
way they'd done it.
The next hour involved taking
everyone back to their own places, except for Countess Printer, who insisted
that they come and spend the night with her.
"Well, Gerent and Petra can
spend the night with me, since we have wedding plans to go over. That probably
won't thrill the rest of you."
Gerent shrugged, and then shook
his head.
"Can you do that on Harmony?
Misha has an appointment." Or could, if that was what she wanted to do.
The woman, who'd been on the ship for most of the day looked at him, amazed,
and then smiled.
"Is that... Do you think
it's all right?"
He just nodded, feeling a bit
subdued. Not by the death, since Gerent had seen a lot of that over the years.
No, it was the fact that they'd all seemed to lose their nerve after the old
Count had died. Or, that might not be fair, he realized. It wasn't a lack of
courage
,
just that most of the nobles couldn't see that these other men were to blame
just as much. Not even with three others clearly pointing the finger at one of
them for setting it up. Jimson.
Gerent didn't know him, but he
knew a lot
about
him already.
For instance he had a very good
idea about how the man was going to die. It didn't involve merely having a few
broken bones or the pleasure of a hangman's noose, either. It would take a
special kind of person to help him with that one. Not soft nobles. Not even
assassins. Rougher types that didn't care about honor, just gold.
Holly, being an adventurous sort,
agreed that going to the Moon sounded like a good enough lark. That just meant
collecting Petra, if she wanted to go with them. It turned out that she didn't
have a problem with that, once the school day was finished. She even had
another day off, after that, so no work would be lost. Not that it would
anyway. With the new space vessels they could live on the Moon and still be to
work every day on time, no matter where on the planet that would take them. It
hadn't been something that he'd ever considered before, but he wondered at the
idea as they settled in to the docking bay.
"We should all set up rooms
here. The crew I mean. Not you Holly. That would just be strange." He
winked at her, and then took Petra by the hand, holding it a bit more lovingly
than he'd expected from himself. They didn't really know each other, but she
seemed well enough pleased by the action. "A place here and one on the
planet for each of us. Probably at one of the new landing places. The Space
Ports."
That started a conversation about
such things, and an indication from Countess Printer that she might have some
land that would work for it, not too far outside of Printer, if he could come
up with the magics needed to do the work on the ground itself. Not that it
needed a lot, but some permanent structures would help it all seem more real.
Ones that wouldn't be destroyed by the next storm.
"Especially if no one uses
it for a while. We don't have all that many space vessels yet." Holly
looked at Petra, but she just looked away, not suggesting anything.
Dorgal did, however.
"You should get with Tiera
on that. Not for ships, but I bet she knows how many there are going to be.
That, or try Timon Baker." There was a strange bit of hinting involved
that seemed a little too slick, which Gerent didn't get. Not until Petra
chuckled.
"And you get a stake in all
that?"
Dorgal smiled, his black mustache
moving on his upper lip a bit. "They're family, as it turns out. Still,
that would be the source I'd go to on that one, family or not. No one else has
better information, and they aren't really hiding their moves. Not yet. Getting
in early is probably a good idea."
Ger didn't track it all, but
everyone else seemed to be understanding the idea, so he didn't ask, not
wanting to be the stupid one. What he did do, wisely, was keep his mouth shut.
That way no one would instantly realize he was totally lost. Not until they
quizzed him on the idea. Then it would be pretty apparent, he didn't doubt.
For all that he'd promised to
chat with Petra and Holly about things, they didn't need him for that. They
wanted Laurie. It was nearly midnight, Harmony time, but the woman was still
awake when they called, and didn't tell them to buzz off, suggesting that they
meet up at Marissa's for a late meal instead. He was hungry himself, so thought
it sounded good. Everyone else looked a bit uneasy.
Erid took a breath and then
nodded, however, when the device cut off.
"That might be interesting,
I suppose. The Queen's mother... Rumor has it that she's not a person to trifle
with. Or be around for too long, if you have the wrong gender. Not that I give
great weight to what people say, in general." He looked away, embarrassed,
but then turned back to them, making eye contact with Gerent. "That came
from Tor."
"He'd know. Still, she isn't
that
bad, so let's see what happens? We need Tim, if he'll come as
well." He did call that one himself, and asked the boy along.
The walk to the restaurant wasn't
a long one, and the air, even if it was inside, seemed fresh and clean. Like
they were standing on the edge of a pine forest, for some reason. The place
needed more plants, but the lights they had around looked to be bright enough
for a lot of them to grow well. When they got to the first door of the main
causeway, which was done in silver on the outside, and shone like polished
metal, he decided to simply do it. They had the test plants, somewhere around.
If they were growing well, he'd set up a real operation for it. The place was a
bit lifeless, without them. They needed animals to round things out. At least a
menagerie or two. That, and farms. Not that they needed the animals for food or
even fiber, like sheep. It was just that having them around made people better.
It was hard to see, but having the constant responsibility was important. A lot
of people on the Moon wanted for valuable work anyway, so it made sense.
He decided to ask about that, if
they got a chance.
Inside the place he had to stop,
just beyond the door, as half the people crowded up behind him. It was
breathtaking in its beauty. There were silk hangings on all the walls, some
with complex patterns, others that were just large banners trimmed with
tassels. The whole place was filled with real tables, things that looked like
the finest of hard wood, and there was
silk
on the tops of them. No one
on Earth used that fabric on tables, because a single drop of liquid would ruin
the cloths forever. Here, they all had them. The colors varied, but ran to reds
and oranges, with a few yellows in different places, where it matched the gaily
colored walls. It all flowed seamlessly into the whole as well.
They were met by an exotic woman,
who had printed sheets inside nice folders for them. He didn't know what that
was about, and couldn't be bothered to ask yet, distracted by the lady herself.
She was black, but wore a very fine looking blue dress that was both light
weight and not at all revealing. It covered everything except her arms, which
practically drank the light.
It was one of those things that
he doubted would be explainable to anyone else. When he thought of the woman as
black, it was a deeper and more real thing than what he would have gone with
for others. For instance, Princess Abbie was
also
black, if you didn't
know that people like this existed.
Her
coloration was deep, but a
blue-brown in tone that was, in the end, merely dark. This was different. Like
coal. Like space itself.
Everything about her was that way
too. Her eyes didn't have whites, and her teeth were the same color as her
skin, making the woman seem like a statue carved from ebony. Except that she
moved and smiled at them, her voice warm and friendly when she spoke.
"Welcome! I'm Marissa. I
have a menu with suggestions on it, and of course, we can make you nearly
anything you might desire, so please feel free to ask. There are six this
evening?" She didn't seem to have counted, but that was right for the
numbers they had with them.
Petra smiled back, looking down
at the woman, who wasn't huge, being smaller than anyone there.
"Seven or eight, I think?
We're expecting people."
Marissa seemed pretty happy to hear
that.
"Wonderful! Come this way,
please? I have just the table for you."
She did. It was larger than most
of the others, and tucked away toward the back, so that they wouldn't be on
display. Not that anyone that ate there really was, too much. There were
statues placed around strategically, to prevent that from happening, but
without creating real walls all over the place. They were all in pale stone,
since that was mainly what they had around.
"I'll give you all a moment
to decide, while you wait for your friends?" She didn't leave, until
Countess Printer nodded at her.
"Thank you, that sounds like
a good plan."
It didn't take long for Laurie to
get there, and most of the table got a hug from her. Dorgal didn't, but Erid
did
,
which made him blush. Probably since he'd just been suggesting she might be
mean. She recognized him by name too. The white robes he wore probably made
that easier really. The boy himself was pretty normal looking, otherwise.
Not that there was anything wrong
with that. His value wasn't in his looks, that was all.
Timon came rolling in about ten
minutes later, looking well rested and relaxed, with Patty just behind him. He
was taller than she was now, but still thin, like Gerent was. Growing as fast
as they both were it was hard to put any weight on.
The boy stopped by the table and
spread his hands, smiling hugely.
"Everyone! I just came to
get my assistant and take her away. He'll return in the morning." It was a
funny way to say it, but everyone there already knew the plan it seemed,
including Laurie. She just nodded at her boy, and then patted Misha on the
hand, as she stood, looking nervous.
"I hear it doesn't hurt at
all."
That got a smile from Misha, but
Tim snorted.
"Hurt? Not so much. It
itches
horribly though, from what I've been told. Be ready for that. Well, let's
go and see to this? I need to know what you want to look like. Do you want
naturally blue hair? That's hard to do, but we can work something out. Green is
easier..." They kept chatting as they walked out, but the conversation at
the table had died. For about ten seconds. Then Patty moved in next to him and
put her hand on his arm.