Without pause the fellow stood and grabbed his large pack.
"Ready to move out, do not unload without orders. The hatch will open first, so watch for sign of the enemy. Ready to move!"
Tim made his craft flash again, using the same colors as earlier, red and bright green, since they clashed so nicely. He hoped it would be enough of a signal to the others that they needed to stop and land. They'd all managed to slow, clearly realizing that the battle below them meant they were there.
Sherri was the last one down, the men boiling out of the back as soon as that happened. They made lines and started marching instantly, even before the other craft were empty. No one bothered to stop and chat with them about what might be needed next. He waved to the others then, trying not to seem as bored as he felt.
"We can just take one craft to get back. Everyone load up into mine." It made sense, that would make fewer targets and let them talk without using the communications devices. Not that he was too worried about being attacked, if they took off quickly enough.
Anyone would have to be stupid not to have noted where they landed.
The others moved quickly enough to get their craft put away, but Trice lingered for a bit, and actually put her arm around his shoulders, not saying anything. It was just a bit off, like she was making herself do it.
"And what's
this
now? I can tell the difference between a person desperately trying to protect themselves, and a real marriage you know. Even if you're stuck with me, there's no need to fake it
this
strongly."
She didn't move for a bit, but finally smiled. It looked real and everything. Nearly at least. A highly practiced move then, instead of something genuine. Tim needed to learn how to do that too. It had to do with making the eyes crinkle just enough to look real, he thought, without overdoing it.
"Thanks. I mean that. You have
no
idea how much I've been panicking. Trust me, and I don't mean to sound mean here at all, but you were pretty close to the last thing on my list to try before just taking off and changing my name. I would have, but it would kind of destroy my career. Still, this ended up being a huge trap for me, didn't it? I kept hoping Rico would change, at least at first, then later I just hoped he'd marry before I did. The agreement said that we both could. Otherwise, in the year we're both to turn twenty-two we had to get married." She didn't go into why he was awful again, but she did squeeze him a little. "I'd much rather have just left you alone and let you get married to Karina. That or some other girl you liked better. As it is I'm pretty sure that Tor isn't going to be my friend anymore. He yelled at me last night, for even asking you. It wasn't good. Ali and he actually argued over it. I feel horrible, but I don't want to die or start a war over this and I can't find another way out."
The craft started going down then, with Terry's being first, since he actually ran to see to it. Timon looked at the woman that was still standing there with her arm around him and smiled a bit, knowing it would seem sad, if only a little.
"I can't say that it's my first choice of plans either, but we can make it work. Besides, I can use your help on a plan I have. It will probably take a decade or two, but we're both young, so why not?"
She giggled a little and covered her mouth with her right hand, as if he'd said something funny. Looking up he got it. Collette was watching them, her eyes a little dark. Probably because she figured that Trice was coming on to him. Or, really, it might be that the Blonde thought that the Ducharina was trying to get him to do something that wouldn't involve sex at all, using her female wiles. That was the truth, wasn't it? She was trying to secure her life, freedom and sanity, using him. It was kind of funny, if you had the right sort of mind.
She winked at him, seeming to get that he noted her reaction more than anything else.
"Oh? What's that? Are you going to take over the kingdom and put me on the throne instead of Aunt Constance?" She was playing, not remembering who he was, behind the little boy mask of his face. A common mistake.
"No. Though don't be surprised if she puts snakes under the altar or something like that. She really isn't my best friend, as you might have noticed. I guess I should feel flattered that she bothers to hate me on the same level she would an adult, but I could go on in life without that, to be truthful. No, I'm planning on taking control of the Assassins Guild." The look he leveled at her wasn't playful at all, but she giggled again anyway and pushed on his shoulder, which was for the others, who were already coming back.
"Let me get my craft down. That's funny." Running off she had it done about the time everyone else was settling into the seats of his craft, with Collette making a point of moving into the seat next to his in the very front. Trice didn't as much as bat an eyelash at the move, just moving next to her soon to be brother-in-law.
The trip back was actually sort of fun, since Sherri tried to entertain Terry by singing Noram Day songs, and that got everyone going after a bit. When they got to the Capital Patricia moved to the front and touched his shoulder, her hand staying there for a while, while Collette glared at her a bit.
"Oh, come on Col, he's going to be my husband by this time tomorrow. Beyond that, you can put away your jealousy. We aren't moving to Two Bends, so you won't lose your boyfriend or anything. It isn't like you've been having sex even, so relax, will you?" She sounded calm, but it was clearly meant to be mean, even if it didn't sound like it. The blonde woman smiled then, a wicked grimace that looked ready to fight.
Argue at least.
"Oh? Is that the game we're playing now? Pretending that official sanction makes this alright? And no, I don't mean the age thing. That's... Not great either, but Timon will live, even saddled with you. Don't think I don't know what it is you're doing Trice, using this to force..." She stopped then, her face tight.
Patricia just shrugged.
"We should head straight to the King's Palace. They owe us some pudding."
The night was different, since the glowing river that was almost always purple, suddenly changed, alternating green and red. It was very pretty, and they had a great view of it. It wasn't magic, not totally, as it was just possible to make out the men and women standing on the top of the wall, crouched really, making the changes to the devices there.
One of them got it wrong for a moment, making three reds in a row. It was fixed in seconds however.
Timon settled them into the landing spot near the west door of the Palace, leaving it there again, so that he wouldn't have to carry all his things around with him all evening. He wasn't planning on staying for dinner, but it would be hard to say no, if the King invited them himself. It turned out that, unlike earlier, they had to answer questions while holding a Truth amulet, to prove who they were and that they weren't suddenly enemies of the Crown. Terry went first, but they all passed.
Really it was a bit rude, given that they were just helping get troops to battle for the King's side, but it made sense. Who knew what anyone was going to do, day to day, or even six hours later?
If you held the same opinion for too long it became stale, like old bread. That didn't mean you had to change without end, but you should at least consider doing things differently on a regular basis. It made sense to him at any rate. After all, too many people got stuck in their ways, and ended up not moving along with the times. That had to be dangerous for someone like him, that would be very old one day. It might even be true for regular people.
They were led by a Royal Guard named Kevin to a small room off the main dining hall. From the sound there were about five hundred people in there, and the instant the King walked in he settled the matter of what they were doing for dinner without pause.
"Sorry, can't have you in tonight. Too many guests already. I hope that doesn't disrupt your plans? We could arrange a meal..." There was concern at least, but Collette shook her head.
"No, thank you, Sire. My mother is preparing dinner for us and a few others. We'll be fine that way." She sounded happy enough about it all, but Timon wondered when she'd had a chance to talk to Glaren about that.
Not that either of them had told him that the other woman was her birth mother, but it was kind of obvious. Why she was working at Tor's house he didn't know, but the woman was good at her job. She was the one that made up all the food baskets his Fast Transport clients ate on normal flights. They were pricy, true, but worth it. No one had ever complained about the food at least and it rarely went uneaten.
The King gestured for them to all sit, but remained standing, which he normally didn't do in Tim's presence. Probably because it was actually work to look down that far.
"I received word through William Smythe that you successfully put all one thousand men on the ground in Rochester Barony. They're holding for now. We might need your services to do that again in the coming days. I have to say, the day would have been lost without your aid. A bargain, for only five thousand gold." The King didn't look at him askance or anything over the amount, which was good. After all, at his normal rates it would have been ten times that at least, if not more.
Sure, he'd said a thousand and would have taken that too, but that really had been for two hundred people. This way he could give each of the others a nice bonus and bind them to him, like he had with Millert and Mona.
It would seem generous, but that wasn't the point, was it? Loyalty could be bought, if you did things correctly. With Mona it was a big, but unexpected gift. If he spaced them out, she'd stick around and be willing to put up with a lot just on the off chance that someday there might be another one.
With these four, well, they weren't Mona, which was a plus all the way around, but they'd appreciate him noting who'd done the work, even if he did take the lions share.
The King cleared his throat then.
"Ehm. Well, I hate to be rude, but I need to be at the table soon. They can't start without me and I fear the Kitchen staff will start cursing my name if I let their dishes get cold. Can I count on your aid?"
Timon liked the man, he really did. He also didn't like being kept on a string, even one made of gold coins.
"We'll try to at least make certain someone is available. We have a wedding vacation to go on and all that sort of thing. Otherwise it won't look real." It wasn't an honest point and Trice rolled her eyes but Richard acted as if it had to be the most important thing in the world.
"That's an honest consideration. I have to say, even though I won't rescind my signature on this, it's making me a bit uneasy. Well, anyway, I have to go. I'll see you all tomorrow?"
There were head nods and soft murmurs in agreement then as the man left, not saying anything else. That they could have done the whole thing over the communications device was true, but it wasn't like they had a ten hour trip to Tor's house, was it? They could walk and it wouldn't take an hour, even on Noram Day.
They flew, which meant they were at his brother's door within two minutes, his cases floating behind him. Terry had a bag, as did Sherri, but this was Collette's house and Trice clearly stayed there enough that she didn't need to pack anything with her. That was the lovely thing about magical clothing and all the other devices a person could have now. It really didn't take a lot of room. It was just possible that the girl had everything she needed on her, if she'd gotten in good with Sam and Guide. They were young and she was pretty, so that was just possible.
Then again, she might just have her own room, with her things in it, just up the stairs.
Regardless, Collette didn't bother knocking, so when they got in, there was a bit of a surprise. Ali was there, walking over to welcome them and the house front section of the place had at least ten people in it. Most of them in white robes.
High Servants.
"Great! We were waiting for you all. Come this way, dinner is about to be served."
Timon woke in a rush, alone in the dark. For a moment he felt like someone was standing over him, watching him sleep. He knew who it was without ever having to open his eyes. The giant form was female, and smelled like her. Nora. Countess Alan. A shiver of pure fear ran through him, until he remembered that he'd killed her himself, taking her head into two parts with a wave of his hand.
It took a while before he was able to get a light on, not wanting to get out of bed, in case the ghost of the woman had come to haunt him. That was silly. Not the idea of haunting, given everything he knew about magic that almost had to happen, the imprint of a person lasting far longer than their body would. No, the silly part would be Nora coming after
him
. After all, he had a physical form and magic. No ghost was going to stand up to that for very long if it came to a fight. It wasn't a real point anyway, he noticed when the light came on. There wasn't anything there at all. Just his own fear.
That almost had to happen, and this wasn't the first time since he'd been tortured that he'd woken like this, covered in sweat and shaking. It didn't leave him feeling strong or tough, but he could deal with it, once he was awake.
"Of course getting married to Trice isn't going to be helping that, is it?" He spoke out loud, into the empty cottage room. The bed was soft enough, and formed to him perfectly, but he got up anyway, even if it was at least an hour before dawn. This time of year that meant it would be around six-thirty in the morning. He moved to find his watch, not having invested in a wall clock yet. It said it was a bit earlier than that, being just a few minutes after six. It was a good enough time to wake up at any rate.
The thing there was that he didn't know what to do. He was getting married that day, but hadn't really had a chance to get ready for the idea. Did he feel afraid? Nervous? Really he didn't feel anything at all. The whole thing felt less than real for some reason. Like a bad joke was being played on him... by someone. That part was hazy, but the pieces were there. After all, wouldn't the very best possible outcome be for Rico Gala to simply die? There were ten thousand ways to make that happen, and marrying a child wasn't one of them.
Or was it? Could he, or more to the point, someone
else
who didn't need an alibi, use that as a cover for the man's death? Move in and help him have a horse riding accident or fall in the bath and hit his head fatally? Yes, the Baron would suspect, but if Trice was busy getting married, which would end the problem, that could be used to deflect the whole thing.
Then, since he wasn't planning to force her to stay married to him, most likely, they could get her favorite uncle, who happened to be the King, to annul the whole thing. It was a good enough plan that he decided to make it happen, even if no one else was currently working that angle.
Of course Trice, if she were smart, would simply bear the shame of being his wife for a few years in order to keep hold on him. There really weren't that many people she could marry after all and unless she wanted to wait for Terry, none of them would be as close to Tor as he was. Well, Gerent was really, but the man just wasn't that great looking. He might be later, if she was willing to wait. Tor had something planned there, didn't he?
Stretching first, he stood and moved into his morning chores, washing and then dressing for the early part of the day. Then, even though he didn't feel hungry at all, he made a small breakfast for himself out of two eggs and some decent yellow cheese, along with a fairly stale piece of bread that Mona had made. It wasn't great bread, but it served well enough. He was a bit picky that way, wanting baked goods to be well made, but the woman tried hard, so he hadn't mentioned it at all. It was enough that she'd stopped hitting on him every day.
After eating and cleaning up well enough that no one would know that he'd even been there, he decided to practice building something. He was a bit out of sorts, his nerves finally starting to stretch thin with the day coming at him like it was, not knowing what the whole thing was really all about, if it wasn't simply what it seemed.
That meant it was about the perfect time to make a useful copy without a template. He had a few things that he'd been working with. Not-flyers, an explosive weapon, a powerful force lance and a large cutter. All he needed was something small to put it on. That he managed by going outside and looking for a tiny rock. The one he found was about the size and shape of a giant's finger, which meant it filled his palm completely. It was part of a large rock, or had been, broken and with jagged edges, the color being a bland gray with one darker streak. It was an ugly thing really, but the shape wasn't bad.
He let himself sit on the floor of his main room and worked as hard as he could manage on it, holding the pattern in his head until it resonated with the pattern of the stone, meaning that it was in place and decently strong. The hard part would be testing it, since there was nothing much to cut in the area. Instead of bothering with slicing up his own belongings, he walked outside in the morning sun and triggered it, feeling the four foot line it made in the air. It was a thin sliver of information that just drove things away from a central point, so it would work in any direction. That was different than the ones Tor made, but this wasn't a tool, it was a weapon, meant to kill anyone it touched, no matter how that happened.
Near the edge of the water there was a place where several large boulders had been put in place, either by the water itself, or some municipal project a very long time before. They were different sizes, and made rough steps down to the water that men and women used when doing their wash or to bath in the summer heat. Triggering the shard in his hand Timon made a few cuts, just shaping the stone into something smoother and more pleasant to walk on. Real steps and sitting platforms. He even carved a small wash area, complete with a bench under the water.
The hardest part was actually tossing the decently large chunks of stone to the side, since some of them weighed more than he did. It was something he could manage, with just a bit of effort.
The voice that came from behind him was familiar enough, but had managed to sneak right up on him.
Petra.
"Nice. Of course you put this right between your and Tor's houses, which means that anyone using it will have to beat a path through your yard. That's what they'll do too, because no one is going to walk on the
wizard's
lawn." She sounded a bit subdued for some reason, which could be tiredness, or almost anything. She had a lot of stress in her life after all, with her family being in danger and her own recent ordeals, which had been as bad as his own, or worse.
After all, Count Rodriguez had been her
fiancé
. There was a real betrayal there. Tim really hadn't trusted Nora at all. Yes, that left him not trusting women, especially giant ones, but Pet had to be wondering if she could trust anyone at all. Even those closest to her. It wasn't fair. It did remind him to pester King Richard about the man's execution again. If they waited too long he might be broken out of his cell or something, which wouldn't serve at all.
"Yeah. I was thinking I could set up a little stand to sell things for festivals, if Tor keeps doing that here, now that he's moved. Maybe put in some lights along the walkway here?" He hadn't really been thinking that at all, but it was a good enough idea. "Maybe some more trees? There's plenty of water for it after all."
The woman looked out at the slightly muddy expanse in front of her, standing on the second step that he'd made, near the top.
"Sounds good. So is this a gift to the city, on the day of your wedding? That's pretty decent of you. Most people just get drunk and try to forget that they're getting older. Kind of a milestone, marriage."
He grinned up at her and hefted the stone with the cutter on it for her to see.
"I noticed I was a bit worked up, so I made this copy. I'm trying to learn to do it under stress, in case something ever comes up. I was just testing it." Then, without really considering the idea, he tossed it into the water. No one would find it before the field faded and even if they did, there was no real chance of anyone turning it on. Petra winced anyway.
"That's a weapon grade cutter, built on stone? How much would that be worth, do you think?"
"About two hundred gold. Or it would be if the stone was nicer. I could shape something and etch a sigil. I'm not making things for sale. If you want one, let me know and I'll do something nicer."
That got the woman to take a few steps closer and stand near him, not touching at all.
"
Definitely
load me up with weapons. Judy too. Karen Derring as well. I know you two aren't that close yet, but she's one of my best friends."
"Also a relative of mine. It makes sense. I'll do that, as I practice making things."
She was silent for a while, but finally said something that Tim kind of thought she'd been working up to for days.
"You don't have to do this, you know. You don't owe Patricia anything, and while this is a dire enough situation for
her
, it isn't your concern. Gala won't go to war over it, not after what happened to her and Gerent there. Oh, they might be offended, but the Baron isn't a fool. I'm kind of surprised that no one mentioned that a bit more strongly already. Something isn't right here, is it?"
The nice thing there was that she was actually asking him, as if he might know something.
"I know. There have been some hints. Collette started to say something yesterday, about Trice using me to work her way in to something. I have to imagine that's into my grandfather's circle of control. Nothing else would make sense at all. Not yet. It's a good enough plan, honestly, working with Tor would serve her better. Count Lairdgren and I aren't close." Picking up a small stone, one that had been cut from a large boulder to his left, he tossed it away, letting it lodge in the rocks a bit closer to Tor's place. "I think there's also a plan in place to remove this Rico Gala, using me and this marriage as a cover. If there isn't, then we should set that up, don't you think? If I get time and no one else does anything, I mean. Otherwise, it's wasted effort."
"That, or get the man to marry someone else. From what I've heard, that isn't too likely. He has a tendency to kill his playmates. Really, Gala should have killed him already themselves. He's the only child. That makes a difference to some people. They're willing to put up with almost anything to protect their heirs." The dark complected woman sighed and shook her head. "So, for today we sell your tender flesh to the wicked Patricia, to protect her from a fate... Well, it would probably be no worse than death, not in the end. Really, my coin would be on her killing
him
, but that would end up with a bigger mess than if she died. After all, she isn't anyone's direct heir."
"Right. Well, we should be off then, shouldn't we? I don't know what the plan is for the day at all really. I need to shower again. After that..." Letting his hands spread he started to walk back to his little cottage, Petra slapping him on the back as he passed her.
They didn't talk a lot, at first, but as he got cleaned up again, after his work of moving all those rocks, other people started to show up at his door. The first was expected really, being Judith, who'd had to stay in Printer overnight. Then his relatives started coming. The men at least. Terry and Tor came over at the same time, with Count Thomson.
They were there for moral support, even though Tor didn't seem all that happy about the plan. He didn't harp on it, just frowning a lot. It wasn't his normal way at all.
The Count on the other hand seemed almost overjoyed.
"Timon!" He pounded him on the back hard enough that both of their shields activated. "This is a banner day. A very good match too. She's a bit older than you are, but well connected and a good person, once you get past the surface. I have to say, I've been trying to find someone suitable for her for a long time now. It's harder than it sounds. All the steps. A Ducharina is too highly placed to have a large potential pool, and the way the contract was written she had to have a very good marriage for it to count. We couldn't raise up a plowboy and claim he was a prince or something."
Tor snorted then, his face a bit sour. More than a little, actually.
"And yet
I
was deemed good enough, even before I was a Countier. Imagine that."
Tovey actually glared at him and shook his head a little.
"Tor... Gala would have gotten on his hands and knees and let you stand on his back so that the height would have looked right for the wedding. You
saved
his city. That alone is why he ate what Tiera and Timon did there, freeing Patricia and Gerent. Timon isn't the only boy that's available you know, he's just the only one that Galasia has to accept,
because
of you."
"Ah." There wasn't a lot of excitement in his voice, but he stopped snarking at them at least.
There really wasn't a lot for him to do yet, since the day was mainly about the women, Tovey informed him with a sage nod, having been married himself for a while. That meant sitting around and waiting, which felt both lazy and boring. At about nine other people were showing up, including Mona, her husband and both girls.