The Snows of Montora (The Chronicles of Montora Book 3)

by Ward Wagher

  “We are going to freeze in that thing!” Frank yelled.

  “We are going to freeze if you keep standing here,” Smith said.

  Frank shook his head and waded through the snow to the sleigh. Marple stuck out his hand to Frank.

  “Welcome back Captain Nyman. I'm delighted to see you again.”

  “Thanks, Modest. I'd like to chat about old times, but I'm getting cold.”

  Marple laughed. “Well, get into the sleigh. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.”

  “I'm already surprised,” Frank said. “And not in a good way.”

  “When we see the snow, we think about money in the coffers from the tourists.”

  “Well, your priorities are right, anyway,” Frank grunted as he made his way to the sleigh.

  He climbed in the rear most seat, which was facing forward. Smith sat next to him. Jones climbed into the other seat, which faced the back. The sides of the sleigh were high enough that only their heads were above the edges. Hopper and Marple draped the passengers in heavy blankets.

  “These are warm,” Frank said in surprise.

  “They are heated,” Marple said. “We want our guests to enjoy the winter sleigh-rides.

  Marple and Hopper moved to the front and climbed into the drivers seat. With a shake of the reins, the ponies moved off. Rows of bells attached to the harness leathers jingled in the winter morning. A strong, warm breeze rose from the floor of the sleigh and Frank looked down in surprise at the heat vents.

  “This is not bad,” he called to the men in front. He leaned back again and put an arm up on the side edge.

  The sleigh carried them comfortably through the force of the storm, and down the side of the mountain from the Starport. The wind had blown the accumulated snow off the branches of the fir trees and they stood dark against the brilliant snow. As the path wound through the forested hillside, the wind dropped off temporarily. The sleigh-bells were the only sound as the snow muffled everything else.

  “This is really nice,” Frank said. “Whoever came up with this had a great idea.”

  “Franklin isn't just sitting around,” Smith said.

  Marple swung the sleigh to the right and followed a street that wound around the perimeter of Montora Village. Frank studied the buildings, most of which now seemed occupied. Jones studied the path they had just traveled.

  “This looks really good,” Frank commented. “They got a lot of work done over the past year and a half.”

  They came around another tight corner and took the bridge over the Moody River, and up to the castle.

  “Don't see many changes, here, Skipper,” Smith commented.

  “Not much you can do to a castle.”

  “'Cept, put it back together when somebody blows the wall down.”

  “True,” Frank said. “You can't even tell where that happened.”

  “Probably Harmon Eckert's work.”

  “Probably so, now that you mention it,” Frank replied.

  With a clatter the runners scraped over the iron tracks of the castle gateway. They swung into the courtyard and Marple brought the sleigh to a halt. He gave the reins a couple of turns around the post on the corner of the sleigh and jumped out. He and Hopper helped the passengers out into the courtyard.

  “A great ride, Modest,” Frank said. “The sleigh is great.”

  “The customers love it, Sir,” Marple grinned.

  They turned as the double doors to the keep opened and Franklin Nyman stepped out.

  “Welcome back to Montora, Dad. Come on in before somebody freezes.”

  Frank and Smith & Jones, along with Marple, quickly stepped into the keep. Hopper climbed back into the sleigh and moved it off to the stables.

  A butler closed the door behind them, and Frank quickly shed the coat.

  “Great weather you arranged for us, Son,” Frank said.

  Franklin chuckled. “I thought you would like it.” He turned to the tall, voluptuous, brunette woman standing next to him. “Allow me to present my wife, Signe.”

  Frank stepped forward and placed his hands on Signe's arms. “Forgive me for not being at the wedding. Welcome to the family.”

  She stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. “It's the curse of the distances, I guess, Sir. But thank you for coming to visit at Christmas time. It's all Franklin could talk about since we got your message that you planned to come.”

  Frank stepped back and looked at Signe again. “I suppose you have probably heard this before, but you really look like Honor Hawthorne.”

  Franklin and Signe both laughed.

  “You are certainly not the first,” she said. “But I am well used to it.”

  Honor Hawthorne was a heroic Navy Captain in a vid drama, played by the actress Stacia Cummings. Signe was constantly mistaken for the actress.

  “Come on into the dining room, Dad,” Franklin said. “Mrs. Marsden has a light luncheon prepared.”

  “You haven't fired her yet?”

  Franklin laughed again. “No, Dad. She's tried to fire me three or four times.”

  “I believe it,” Jones commented quietly.

  Signe laughed in her low contralto. “And which of you is Smith and which is Jones?”

  “Does it matter?” Franklin asked.

  “Oh, you,” she punched him on the shoulder.

  Smith stepped forward. “Sergeant Cedric Smith, Margravina; and this is Sergeant Martin Jones.”

  “I have heard much about you. Welcome home.”

  “Thank you, Ma'am.”

  “Well, come on in out of this drafty foyer,” she said. “I'm getting cold. This weather is great for business, but I am not personally fond of it.”

  “That I understand,” Frank said. He turned to Franklin. “I assume Alex is watching over the keep?”

  Franklin looked puzzled. “Well, yes.”

  Frank turned to Smith & Jones. “I am safe enough here, I expect. Why not scurry home to your wives.”

  “Have Hopper run you home,” Franklin said. “We'll see you and the wives back here tonight.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” Smith nodded, and strode from the room, along with Jones.

  § § §

  “And so, that pretty much sums out the situation,” Franklin said as they relaxed around the table.

  “It looks like the business recovered better than we expected,” Frank said.

  “Earl Paravel has his rental cabanas generating revenue while the hotel is being constructed in Castle Paravel. Between that, the Cambridge Arms and the Village Inn here, we're doing all right.”

  “What about your note to Charlie Steelmaker?”

  “Just making interest payments right now, Dad,” Franklin said. “The minerals project is not taking off quite as I expected.”

  Frank sighed. “I've been worried about that.”

  “Charlie Steelmaker passed away about six months ago. Had you heard?”

  “No kidding? I guess I'm not surprised. He was old back when I did business with him. What happened to his businesses?”

  “He left it all to his nephew, who is a straight-up fellow, by the way.”

  “You've met him?” Frank asked.

  “Yes. Harvey Steelmaker. He is actually on-planet right now.”

  “Really? I'd like to meet him.”

  “You'll get the chance,” Signe said. “I hope you don't mind, but I've arranged a small Christmas party in your honor for tonight. I invited Harvey. Mommy and Daddy are coming too.”

  “That's great,” Frank said. “I've missed the people here. It'll be good to see everyone.”

  “Just about everyone on this planet is coming,” Franklin said. “She got a little carried away with the invitations.”

  Frank grinned at his son. “You need to be nice to your wife.”

  “I'm always nice to Signe.”

  The people around the table laughed as Signe rolled her eyes.

  “What about things at New Stockholm, Dad?” Franklin asked.

>   “As usual, I landed in the middle of the biggest mess you ever did see, Son.”

  “That seems to be a habit for the Nymans,” Signe said.

  “Well it was certainly true there,” Frank replied. “Let me talk about the good news first. Due to the goodness of Carlo Roma's heart – not – we are now the proud owners of a fleet of six starships.”

  Franklin whistled. “This was Admiral Krause's doing?”

  Frank nodded. “I think so. Willard Krause and Carlo Roma are both up to their necks in The Mission to Save Humanity. I think Krause persuaded Roma to offer me the freighters at give-away prices.”

  “What was the quid-pro-quo, Dad?”

  “That hasn't been spelled out, I'm not stupid either. Well, maybe not that stupid.”

  Signe giggled. “If you're stupid, I wish I were too.”

  “Thanks. I think. No, that was probably the best part. We also got the headquarters for the business up and running – Franklin was there right after we bought our building.”

  “And right after your glorious revolution,” Franklin said.

  Frank rolled his eyes. “It was more like self-preservation. I don't know how I manage to get myself into these things. But we did eliminate most of the problems with the local riffraff. Got a good friend killed too.”

  It was quiet in the room for a few moments.

  “I didn't realize that,” Franklin said. “Who was it?”

  “Gough Brundage. He and his wife were the household staff for the place I bought. They were also helping to run the business. He was one of the casualties in the revolution. That really took all the fun out of it.”

  “You didn't tell me that,” Franklin said.

  “At the time I couldn't talk about it. I got past that part. It was still my fault.”

  “I know what you mean, Dad,” Franklin said. “I got a lot of people killed when we went after the pirates. I didn't think I could live with myself afterwards.”

  Frank looked down at the table. “I'm just sorry I left you in this situation, son. I mean, I'll do whatever I have to do, but I surely don't want to dump you into this as well.”

  “Dad, there was not a thing you, or anyone could have done about it. That was part of what I finally learned. I mean, we're all guilty – it's part of the human condition.”

  “That sounds like an excuse, son.”

  “No, Dad. It's part of our sinful nature. It took me to the point where I didn't know where to turn. Some good friends showed me...”

  “You're not going to tell me you got religion,” Frank said interrupting his son.

  “No, Dad. I turned to Christ.”

  “Oh, for pity's sake.” Frank stood up. “I just can't escape from this. Now my own son is working on me.”

  Signe leaned over and put her hand on Frank's arm. “Please do not look at it that way, Mr. Nyman. It's the only way God can rescue us from this mess.”

  “You know, I think I need to go lie down for a while.”

  “Hopper can show you to your room,” Franklin said.

  Hopper had been standing against the wall, and immediately walked over to Frank. “If you'll come with me, Sir, I will show you the guest suite.”

  Without another word, Frank left the room with Hopper. Signe looked at Franklin.

  “That didn't quite go as I expected.”

  Franklin snorted. “Remember how much trouble you had with me?”

  “As I recall, you were a bit of a trial.”

  “Well, Dad is about ten times as stubborn as I.”

  “Not possible,” Signe declared.

  “Believe it.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Frank followed Hopper to the third floor guest suite in the Montora Castle. It was almost painful for Frank to watch Hopper's slow progress up the stairs due to the prosthesis.

  “Your first name is Murray, right?”

  “That's right, and your first name is Mister.”

  Frank choked. “I see you have your priorities right.”

  Hopper stopped on the landing to catch his breath. “The Skipper, that's your son, tells me I have a big mouth. I'm sorry if I offended you.”

  “I have a pretty thick skin, Hopper. I somehow suspect you are no worse than Cedric Smith.”

  Hopper turned to begin laboring up the next flight of stairs. “I'm getting better at getting my mouth under control. I have learned I can't do it on my own.”

  “How long have you been out of the hospital, Murray?”

  “About six weeks, Mr. Nyman. I think I'm doing pretty well.”

  “I should say so. How long were you incarcerated?”

  “About eight months. Seemed like forever.”

  “You must've been pretty banged up,” Frank said.

  “Yes, Sir. In addition to getting my leg shot off, I breathed vacuum for about five minutes. The medics saved my life, but it wasn't much fun for a while.”

  “I'm surprised Franklin makes you climb the stairs and all.”

  Hopper stopped about halfway up the flight and turned to look at Frank. “No, Sir. I told the Skipper that if I were going to work for him, I was going to pull my weight.”

  Frank grinned. “What did he say?”

  “He told me not to get uppity, and that he would take care of me. And I told him that if he thought he was going to treat me like a charity case, I would quit and go back to work for Louie.”

  “Louie, as in the Woogie?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Hopper said. “He runs the hotel in Cambridge. I used to work for him before I became the Skipper's steward.”

  Hopper turned and continued up the stairs.

  “What did you do for Louie?”

  “I was the bouncer in the hotel bar. I also waited tables and just in general made myself useful.”

  “Kind of what you're doing for Franklin then,” Frank said.

  “Yes, Sir. And, the Skipper is great to work for. Most of the time.”

  “Most of the time?” Frank couldn't resist asking.

  “'Cept when he gets on his high horse.”

  Frank laughed, then. “He gets that from me, Hopper.”

  “I know.”

  Frank could think of nothing to say in response, and followed the one-legged steward as he crested the top of the stairs and clumped down the hall. He opened a door on the left and stepped back so Frank could walk in. He then followed Frank into the suite.

  “As you can see, Sir, this is the sitting room. The bedroom is through that door to the left, and the fresher is off the bedroom. The coffee maker is loaded – all you have to do is push the button. If you need anything, just pick up that comm on the side table. Someone will be with you immediately.”

  “This is very nice, Murray. I suppose I should get unpacked, although I'm very tired.”

  “Sir, I took the liberty to unpack for you. I hope you don't mind.”

  “I don't mind at all. That was thoughtful of you. Thanks.”

  “You're welcome.”

  “Will there be anything else, Sir?” Hopper asked.

  Frank started to reply and then stopped. “I question, Murray, I guess.”

  “What can I help you with?” Hopper asked.

  “It seems curious to me how everyone around here is on a religious kick. What is driving it, do you think?”

  Hopper looked carefully at Frank, then shook his head.

  “I noticed you packed your Bible, Sir.”

  Frank shrugged. “Yes, I did. I keep trying to read it, but all it does is tell me how rotten I am. I already know that.”

  “Did you notice how much more settled, or content your son is, Sir?” Hopper twitched his fingers at his side, and then clasped his hands behind him.

  “Why does it take religion, Murray?” Frank asked.

  “It doesn't.”

  Frank nodded. “At last, I meet one sane individual here.”

  “Sir, I actually came to know the Lord before the Skipper did. It was right before I got hurt. I'm pretty sure it was only
the Lord's doing that allowed me to survive.”

  “Well, it is unusual for somebody to survive after being exposed for that long, Murray.”

  “Have you thought about turning your life over to the Lord?”

  “What, so he can continue to punish me for all the horrible things I've done?” Frank flared.

  “No, Sir. Not at all. There's no question we deserve God's wrath. But His son took our guilt, and paid for it with his death. What He gives us is freedom and eternal life.”

  “But there's no way I can earn that,” Frank said. The anguish was in his voice.

  “You're right. None of us can. He paid for it. All you have to do is accept it.”

  Frank took a turn around the room and stopped in front of Hopper. “Thanks, Hopper.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Hopper said, and he stepped out of the room.

  Frank stared at the door for a bit, then walked into the bedroom. The Bible was lying on the night stand. He opened it up to the marker and read John 3:16. He kept coming back to that verse. He then slipped his shoes off, and rolled onto the bed, with a sigh. In five minutes he drifted off to sleep.

  § § §

  A couple of hours later Frank slipped into the Margrave's office on the first floor. Franklin and Signe were working on the accounts.

  “Gerry still messing up the accounts?” he asked.

  “Do you have to ask?” Franklin said. “I've never seen such a dichotomy. He's as bad at keeping accounts as he is good at everything else.”

  “I think that's why your Uncle Jack kept him around for so long,” Frank said.

  “We couldn't do without him, that's for sure.”

  Frank nodded and dropped onto the sofa across from the desk.

  “You look tired, Mr. Nyman,” Signe said. “Did you get some rest?”

  “Actually, I managed a couple hours' sleep,” Frank replied. I feel somewhat better.”

  “Good,” she said. “We are so looking forward to the party tonight. Everyone is looking forward to seeing you again.”

  “It will be enjoyable to see everyone, I think,” Frank said. “I'm not a big one for parties, but I made some friendships during the short time I was here, and I'm looking forward to seeing them.”