by Frank Morin
“How do you know about that?” Mattias demanded, sounding affronted.
“I consult with Lord Eberhard on a daily basis. He proclaimed me the hero of Schwinkendorf and he takes titles very seriously. I chair the committees responsible for rebuilding efforts, the Builder workroom reconstruction, and the school.”
She spoke calmly, but she stood unafraid before Mattias, chin up, with a hint of anger in her eyes.
Mattias scowled. “Congratulations, but I suspect he may have overstepped his authority.”
Jean stepped closer and she gave him that look she usually reserved for Hamish and Connor when they did something particularly stupid. “As have you, Lord Mattias. I’ve sent word to Kilian asking for direction on how best to wind down production here in the event that a move is indeed required, but nothing will change until he replies.”
“You did what?” Mattias looked a little sick.
So much for letting the best man win Verena. Connor seethed at Mattias’s underhanded actions.
Jean continued, “I am doing exactly what Kilian authorized me to do. Our work here is vital. Do not attempt to undermine it for personal gain. I will not allow it.”
Mattias’s surprise was quickly turning to anger. “Have a care how you speak to me, girl. You are nothing but a commoner, a foreigner. I am a lord of Granadure.”
Hamish balled his hands into fists, his expression furious, but Connor stepped between him and Mattias. “I don’t care who you are. If you ever speak disrespectfully to Jean again, I’ll call you out.”
“You’ll what?”
Hamish said coldly, “Means he’ll beat that pretty smile off your face, but only if you accept his challenge before mine.”
General Wolfram stepped between them, hands raised in a placating gesture. “Easy now, boys. We’re all allies. Let us not begin our mission together with infighting.”
“I agree completely,” Mattias said, sniffing airily at them. “I apologize for growing irritated. I suspect we’re dealing with a challenge of translation.”
“Oh, I think I made myself quite clear,” Jean said. Then she gave him a graceful curtsy and added, “I’m sure Lord Eberhard will be happy to meet with you in his manor and answer any questions you may have.”
Mattias clearly recognized that he was being dismissed, and just as clearly didn’t like that an Obrioner commoner was doing the dismissing. Making an issue of it would only make him look like an even greater fool, so he stomped away without another word.
Hamish swept Jean into a fierce hug. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
“How can I forget? You tell me all the time.”
“I should pound him,” Hamish said.
“No, you shouldn’t,” General Wolfram said sternly.
“He does deserve it,” Connor said.
Wolfram hesitated long enough to show he agreed before saying, “Pounding Lord Mattias will accomplish nothing but place you in his power. He is a good man at heart, but he’s facing a situation he is not well equipped to handle.”
Jean said, “He’s not acting like a good man. Even though he’s losing Verena to Connor, he shouldn’t discard his honor.”
Connor agreed. “He made a pact with me to accept Verena’s will when she awakens and chooses one of us, but he’s trying very hard to circumvent that agreement and force her hand.”
Wolfram said, “Not the most honorable action, but consider why he feels the need to attempt such tactics. Which army must use deceit and trickery?”
“The one that wants to win,” Hamish said.
Jean said, “The weaker, of course. The stronger army holds the advantage.” She placed a hand on Connor’s arm and gave him an encouraging smile. “Verena loves you, Connor. Even Mattias knows it.”
“Mattias is a man used to getting what he wants so it’s hard to admit he might lose something he feels is important. It’s even harder when he’s made a public claim.” Wolfram said gravely. “Don’t let him get away with his tricks, but don’t condemn him.”
Connor preferred simply hating Mattias and looking for his chance to punch him through a window. There had to be a way to make that dream come true without undermining his position or his access to Verena.
Until he figured it out, he’d play along. “Fine. Let’s change the subject. Jean, we’re heading for Althing on a special mission from the crown prince. Gisela, we’d like you to join us.”
“Of course,” Gisela said immediately, but then hesitated and glanced at Jean.
She gave Gisela an encouraging nod. “You have to go. We’ll manage without you for a little while. Don’t worry. I wish I could go with you.”
“You should,” Hamish said.
Jean shook her head. “Someday, but there is simply too much to do. If both Gisela and I leave at the same time, too many aspects of our work would probably grind to a halt. You’ll just have to take me back there for another visit in the springtime.”
“Is much loveliest in the spring,” Gisela said.
Hamish sighed. “I figured you’d say that. Springtime for sure, then. We’re going to grab a few mechanicals as gifts to help secure a military alliance.”
“We don’t have a lot,” Jean warned.
“Can we round up three or four healthbeds, a few pairs of blind coal gauntlets, and maybe a couple speedslings with two or three full rearmings each?”
Connor figured that if negotiations went unexpectedly sour, those mechanicals would still come in handy.
“I think we can do that, but it’ll be a tight fit.”
“The Storm can handle it,” Hamish said.
Jean shook her head. “You won’t be taking the Storm. I need it for research.”
“But we can’t fly all the way to Althing in that creaky, slow, old windrider,” Hamish complained.
“Of course you can’t.” Jean gave him a dazzling smile. “For a royal delegation, you must have the best. Come on, it’s finished.”
“What’s finished?” Connor asked as they all trooped after her to a warehouse near a huge barn on the outskirts of town. The barn was one of the new Builder workshops, with people working on five different types of mechanicals, surrounded by crates of power stone and piles of supplies.
Jean gestured for Connor and Hamish to pull aside the long, sliding door of the warehouse, then led them into the dim interior. Hamish activated a brightly glowing limestone before Connor could.
A sleek new craft, about the same size as the Storm, crouched on the floor, as if barely restraining the urge to leap into the sky. Connor had always thought the Storm a marvel, but this new craft made the Storm look like a clunky, ugly brother.
The new craft had gracefully tapered lines, its body more like a fat falcon than a box like all the other flyers. Two stubby wings protruded from the sides, adding to the image of a bird poised for take-off.
Hamish whistled softly and slid a hand down one smooth side. “You built our new prototype. It’s even more amazing than I imagined. This is so much more than our rough drafts suggested.”
“Thank the new school,” Jean said proudly. “We aren’t actually teaching many classes yet. We’re too busy doing research and documenting foundational principles. We made this a major focus of our initial efforts.”
“She’s beautiful,” Hamish whispered.
“We dubbed her the Hawk.”
“It’s perfect,” Connor said, and the others all nodded.
“I’d hoped you’d like it. It’s almost as fast as the Storm, but uses a fraction of the power stone to reach top speed, and it’s far more maneuverable. It banks like a bird.”
The inside was configured much like the Storm, with three rows of three seats near the front and a wagon-like bed in the back for supplies. The seats were padded and looked a lot more comfortable, though. Several additional storage compartments fit seamlessly into the curving underside and included access panels from within the passenger compartment. A skeletal framework enclosed the passenger space, with wide, cur
ving window openings between.
Jean showed them where quartzite stones, cut to geometric patterns, were already embedded in that framework. “These shieldstones are cut to generate overlapping shields to form a protective dome against the elements. The shapes are similar to the ones in your helmet, Hamish. They produce stronger shields but consume less power. Should make the trip comfortable.”
Hamish pointed to a couple of small metal stoves bolted to the floor. “I’m glad you copied my heating idea.”
“No reason not to stay warm,” Jean agreed.
She briefly summarized the Hawk’s armaments. The sleek body was made of armored steel for defense. Two oversized speedslings were concealed in the belly, with quartzite-operated doors that swung aside when they spun up. Puking Dooms that blasted intense flames were built into the underside, while eight large diorite-tipped missiles were recessed into the wings.
“We’re looking into more powerful armaments, but these were the best we could do on short notice.”
Hamish laughed and kissed her. “You did all this on short notice? I can’t wait to see what you can do with all the time in the world.”
“Me too,” she grinned.
“Let’s pack up everything we need tonight so we can get an early start in the morning,” Wolfram suggested.
“I’m still working on that flash cooker of yours, and hope to install it for in-flight food. In the meantime, we built an enhanced smashpacker so you’ll have plenty of cubed meals,” Jean said.
Hamish sighed, looking so happy he seemed to struggle to find words. So he just took her hand and said, “Why don’t the rest of you see about those mechanicals? We’ll catch up.”
As Connor and the others headed for the nearby workroom, Hamish lifted Jean into the air with a whoosh of thrusters. Their laughter seemed to hang around the warehouse a long time after they disappeared into the bright blue sky.
39
Gaffer-Kicked-Ya
The Hawk took to the skies like a true bird of prey. Hamish loved flying it nearly as much as he did his own battle suit. The Storm was fast, but it turned like a brick. The Hawk banked at speed with beautiful grace, and Hamish laughed as he pushed it to the limits.
“I think I will being sick,” Gisela moaned from the middle seat behind him.
Hamish had forgotten anyone else rode in the amazing craft with him. He glanced back and noticed that Wolfram clutched the rail beside his seat in a white-knuckled grip and Mattias looked like maybe he’d already thrown up into his shirt.
Connor, who sat beside Hamish in the front row was grinning with the thrill of the intense flight. Hamish knew he could count on Connor to keep up, no matter how wild the ride got. Student Eighteen sat alone in the back row and she gave him a jaunty wave, looking like she was also enjoying herself.
“Sorry,” Hamish said as he leveled out the Hawk and slowed. He dropped one of the shields from a back window to let in some fresh air, which seemed to help.
“Are you trying to kill us all?” Mattias demanded.
“I need to get a sense for how she flies. Otherwise we might run into trouble if we hit rough air.”
“We’ve hit rough air,” Wolfram groaned, rubbing his temples.
Student Eighteen’s face shivered a bit, a telltale sign she was shifting personalities. She spoke in her Rith voice, “Buck up, old man. That ride was the closest thing to real speed I’ve seen any non-Strider manage. Well done, Builder.”
“She’s amazing though, isn’t she?” Hamish grinned.
“Amazing but a little too spiriting for me,” Gisela said. She unbuckled her restraint, rose from her seat, and went to the open window to better savor the cold, rushing air.
Hamish didn’t understand why flying, spinning, and turning affected so many people so adversely. “Well, it’s smooth sailing from here to Emmerich Quarry.”
After a good night’s sleep, they had tarried in Faulenrost through the morning, detained by Lord Eberhard, who had insisted on celebrating their arrival with a town-wide breakfast feast. He’d made a passionate speech, thanking Lord Mattias on behalf of the crown prince for the generous support they’d received for the rebuilding effort.
The townsfolk had cheered wildly, and Mattias had seemed taken aback by their enthusiasm. Hamish imagined he’d seen a flicker of guilt in his expression for having tried to steal away the entire town of New Schwinkendorf. Hopefully Mattias would drop his foolish plan.
Hamish hadn’t been in a rush to leave and had found reasons to delay their departure until almost noon. He and Jean had spent the time together, reviewing mechanicals production and discussing plans for the immense outer armor her teams were building. They’d made tremendous progress, and even though he knew Jean better than anyone except maybe her grandmother, he still felt awed by how much she’d accomplished.
“We’ll overnight in Emmerich and get an early start tomorrow,” Mattias said. “Can we make it all the way to Althing in one day?”
“Probably two, if the winds continue as good as they have been,” Hamish guessed. He’d never traveled that far east, but he’d studied some good maps of the continent before leaving Altkalen.
Once everyone felt settled again, Hamish restored the shielding over the back window and accelerated smoothly south. The little wings stabilized flight incredibly well. They should have added wings sooner, and he bet the Storm would have a pair by the time they returned.
By midafternoon they soared over a long row of high hills and caught sight of Emmerich valley. The town spread out to the south of the quarry, windows glinting in the afternoon sunlight. Hamish pointed. “There it is.”
He studied the distant town, increasing the magnification factor of his long-vision goggles. Then he got a great idea and activated a second aspect to the quartzite embedded in the pillars supporting their roof. The nearly transparent shield of the front window shimmered, then the landscape seemed to rush toward them.
“What’s happening?” General Wolfram asked, sounding a bit shaken.
“I set the front window to act like a giant long-vision goggle.” The view zoomed in on the town and the crowds of people already pointing up in their direction.
“Excellent,” Student Eighteen said.
Hamish set down in the center of town, not far from the fountain where Stuart had won his honor duel. The Alasdairians nearly swarmed them under with their enthusiasm, although many of them berated Hamish for failing to bring Jean along too. He finally earned some respite by promising to bring her for sure the next time.
He grinned as his family encircled him, siblings clamoring for rides with him on his new suit. His mother hugged him fiercely, and his father clapped him proudly on the shoulder.
“How is lovely Jean?” his mother asked.
“Taking over the world, one city at a time.”
Mattias stood close enough to hear, and he frowned. Hamish grinned at him, hoping the man was foolish enough to push Jean again. No doubt his estates were opulent. She’d look good as their new lady.
Of course Lord Wenzel declared a feast. He was a good man. Hamish grinned when he noticed how the different dishes from both countries were passed around freely across both groups. Instead of sitting strictly in their town groups, they were beginning to intermingle more too. It seemed that working together daily had helped ease tensions far more quickly than he’d feared.
Just as important, both towns embraced Stuart’s courtship of Stefanie. The unusual relationship seemed to have come to symbolize the union of these peoples from different lands into one community. Hamish hoped the goodwill continued. They would need examples like Emmerich to help demonstrate to others that coexistence was possible.
Hamish ate enthusiastically. He was looking forward to trying Althin food, but the best way to gauge its quality was to bring a fresh memory of all the best from both Obrion and Granadure with him. So he pushed himself to the bursting point. For pure research.
At one point, he noticed Connor walking in the
back of the room with Mhairi. She placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke earnestly for several minutes.
Hamish appreciated Connor’s thoughtfulness. By keeping Mhairi so distracted, he guaranteed she’d forget to give Hamish any of the nasty tonics she no doubt had prepared to test his courage in order to prove him worthy of Jean.
Tomorrow was plenty early for that challenge. Hopefully a tomorrow that never became today.
The evening passed far too quickly. The feast lasted for hours and transitioned somehow to dancing that lasted into the night. Hamish enjoyed catching up with his family and friends. They were beginning to see Emmerich as their home, and he loved how quickly they were recovering from the traumatic loss of Alasdair. Knowing they were well helped him focus on the upcoming mission.
They managed an early start from Emmerich. Lord Wenzel wanted to get his workers out into the quarry without delay to work on their backlog of missed quotas. So he fed them a quick breakfast and ushered them to the Hawk.
As they prepared to leave, Connor’s mother approached him and Hamish. She spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve heard the Althins make wonderful winter socks with their special strains of wool. If you can get your hands on some while you’re there, I’d appreciate it. I want a surprise gift for your father for the winter solstice festival.”
Hamish grinned as Connor promised her he’d make sure to keep his eyes out for the special wool. Hamish never would have planned a surprise sock gift. He and Connor had pranked so many people by dropping little surprises into their boots that socks weren’t high on his gifts-that-make-people-smile list.
When they climbed into the Hawk, Connor’s younger brother Wallace shouted, “Bring me a baby seal from the fjords!”
“Do they have fjords in Althing?” Connor asked as Hamish activated thrusters to lift them gently into the air.
Gisela nodded. “How did Wallace learning about that?”
Hamish smoothly accelerated into the sky and banked to the east. “Wallace always wanted a pedra. I bet your mother searched everywhere for less lethal ideas. Seals would be just the thing.”