by Mark Eller
"Pay the girl," his most recent opponent ordered. Well into her fifties, she was obviously in better condition than Aaron because she had beaten him soundly.
"Yeah, pay up," Julia piped in. "Four coppers, but if you want I'll make it double or nothing that Mistress Lanbright can beat you again. I'm saving up to buy Mum a new house. The way you lose money, I figure it won't take more than six months."
"No, thank you," Lanbright said, laughing. "I really prefer playing someone more challenging. " She grinned and pointed toward a gray-haired man who had just landed a ringer. "Somebody like him. Catch you later."
"Have I ever told you how terrible you are for my ego?" Aaron asked after the woman moved away.
"No, but I'm glad to hear it," Julia said.
"Perteet," Zisst said in seeming agreement.
Smiling impishly, Julia tickled Zisst beneath its ear. Aaron had handed her the animal half an hour earlier so he could play horseshoes. Zisst seemed agreeable with the arrangement since the two of them had become friends during Julia's frequent visits to the manor. In fact, on two occasions it had even gone home with her.
Missy passed by, deep in conversation with Patton. She looked briefly at the girl.
"Careful, Miss Tremont. Don't get too attached. The man has a tendency to move on."
People screamed as the tug of war came to a close with a splash. A man called for people to line up for the three-legged race.
Watching Missy's retreating back, Aaron frowned. What was that about? Aaron wasn't in the habit of leaving people behind. Cathy had left him when she got married. Kit had married him, but after Sarah's death she made it clear Aaron wasn't welcome in her home, and then she left Last Chance, taking the kids with her.
"Mister Turner?"
"Yes. " Aaron turned to a tall middle-aged and uniformed woman who gave every appearance of being powerful enough to break bricks with her hands. She stood straight, the perfect picture of accepted military bearing.
"Could I have a few minutes of your time? I need to speak to you in private."
Aaron shook his head. "I'm not doing business today. " He gestured. "Talk to Mister Patton over there. He can set you up an appointment."
"I've been trying to find you for months," she insisted. "Now that I've found you, all I need is half an hour of your time."
"See Mister Patton."
"Please, sir."
He'd had enough. "I'm under no obligation to speak to you just because you've been looking for me. I told you. See Mister Patton."
Aaron moved off to be at the finish line of the three-legged race. Leaving the large woman far behind was just an added benefit.
"Julia," he heard Mistress Tremont call,"hurry up or we'll be late."
"Can I hang onto Zisst," Julia called out to Aaron.
He gave her a brief wave over his shoulder as he neared the finish line. "I'll catch you later, and be gentle. Zisst is old!"
He liked races, especially the three-legged kind, and he intended to see this one. The race had a large number of participants, which didn't surprise him since he was giving away three sovereigns to the winning team, two for second place, and one for third.
At a hundred yards, the course was long, but he was paying for it so he wanted to see a good contest--which was why he had also designed the obstacle course.
A young, smartly dressed woman moved up beside him, standing so close she bumped him with her hip. She hooked her arm into his and refused to let go when he tried to shake her free.
"Isn't this fun?" she asked. Her breath felt warm against his ear. "All these people bumbling around for our entertainment."
Her lips, Aaron saw when he turned his head toward her, were painted bright pink. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes lids were darkened with shadow. She moved close. One breast pressed into Aaron's arm. He had a clear view down her low cut blouse.
"Excuse me, but do I know you?" Aaron tried to gently pull away.
"Not as well as I'd like you to know me. Can I call you Aaron? For today? My name is Vel."
Aaron flushed with embarrassment. "Please, no, I'm married. I was raised where that means men don't become intimate with other women."
She laughed gaily. "How can you find other wives if you don't court them? Are you telling me you don't do the mom and pop thing with anyone but your wife?"
"One time when I was drunk," Aaron admitted.
"So you need a few drinks to get interested. Tell you what; I know where a couple bottles of good wine are."
The race started. Once more Aaron tried to pry the woman loose, but she wouldn't let go. Giving up, he brushed her from his attention and turned to the course.
The race was everything he had hoped for and more. Not a single team managed a clear lead. Everyone fell at least once. If the sand didn't trip them up, then the mud did. If not the mud, then they fell while jumping over sand bags, or they fell when they had to turn around and jump backwards. Fire wagons lined the course near the end. Tenders sprayed the racers with hand pumped water, sending people rolling across the ground.
A pair, sisters from the look of them, finally crossed the line. They were followed by a husband and wife team. Then two women teams finished so close together nobody knew for sure which finished third. Voices were raised as fans of both let their opinions be known.
Aaron finally shook his leach free. "I have to get there before things turn ugly."
"Well, okay for now," she pouted. "I'll see you later."
Aaron decided the issue of the third place winners by giving both teams a sovereign. One woman forgot he was her employer. She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a large kiss to the cheers and catcalls of the spectators. Flushing a deep red, she pulled back.
"Hoo, Daddy, go for it," a flame-headed girl called out. Aaron didn't recognize her, but pure mischief radiated from her juvenile eyes.
"I don't care," the kisser shouted defiantly to the crowd. "I always wanted to do that. " She smiled shyly at Aaron. "Sorry, boss."
Aaron tried to stiffen his suddenly weak knees. "No problem. " He felt slightly out of breath.
The crowd moved off to form lines for the egg toss where Aaron offered the same prize as he had for the three-legged race. Out by the edge of the grounds, people set up targets for the archery competition. Perversely, Aaron refused to compete in the one event he could possibly win. In the past, he had proved to have an eye and Talent for the bow.
"Come on!" Vel grabbed his hand. "I never tried an egg toss before."
Aaron shook his head no. "I'm paying out the prize. How would it look if we won?"
"So we don't win. Just let me throw an egg at you. It's the least you can do after dashing my hopes."
Wondering just what hopes he had dashed, Aaron allowed her to drag him to the end of the long line. They stood six feet apart when the eggs were passed out. Aaron's egg was brown with white spots.
"Toss!" the judge yelled.
Aaron tossed the egg. Vel caught it between clasped hands.
"That wasn't hard," she called.
Everyone took a step back and again the eggs were tossed. Aaron caught his just before it hit the ground. Several eggs did hit. About half of those broke. Others broke in the catcher's hands. Those people made noises of disgust as they shook yolk and slimy white off their hands and looked for a wet towel.
Aaron survived the next four tosses even though their egg hit the ground every time Vel threw. The woman was probably the worst egg tosser in the history of the world. They would have been out of the competition if they had not owned one tough shelled egg.
Only seven couples remained. Aaron lofted his egg high so it would make the distance but still be moving softly upon reaching Vel. Eyes carefully judging, she took three steps to the side and one back. The egg came into her reaching hands, slipped out of her grasp, and bounced into her chest. Vel jerked her hands into her body and laughed.
"I broke it," she called. "I told you not to worry about winning. " Running t
he distance between them, she pulled her hands away from her body. Broken shell and egg covered her cleavage. "What a mess. It ran all the way down to my stomach. Want to help me clean it up?"
Aaron shook his head. "That's for you to do. I have to pay the winners. " He moved away, escaping her a second time. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Patton hovering nearby. Vel moved off to find a towel.
The winners were happy to receive the money. The winning team vowed to use it to buy a second runabout. Since Aaron sold them to his employees at cost, they could afford another.
The military looking woman who wanted a meeting with him approached. That made him nervous. He'd had enough of the military in Isabella. The Isabellan Guard had once hailed him as a savior and then named him traitor. Several times he had been spit on when one passed by.
A subtle gesture toward Patton gave the man his hint. If nothing else, Patton was very good at distracting people Aaron didn't want to deal with.
Aaron went over to the area set aside for the runabouts. Several styles were displayed, including some designed specifically for smaller people. Miss Tremont was giving lessons on a few modified runabouts. On her own, she had come up with the idea of training wheels, something Aaron never considered. Her wheels were bigger than the ones he remembered, but they worked, and that was what mattered.
"Rentals," a voice said from behind him.
Aaron turned. An employee he recognized but didn't know personally stood a couple feet away.
"What?"
"Rentals," the graying woman said. "You could set up rental stores so people who can't afford a runabout can rent one for a day or two."
"I'm not doing business today," Aaron told her. "See Mister Grebfax tomorrow and tell him I said it was a good idea. He's to give you a week's pay."
"Yes, sir. "
The woman hurried away with a smile on her face. Aaron always rewarded good ideas, even those he wouldn't use in the near future.
There was a touch at his elbow. "Excuse me."
The hand belonged to the flame-haired girl who had encouraged the kisser. She was a short, green eyed, freckle faced hellion if Aaron had ever seen one. Her eyes spoke of the very devil of mischief waiting to break out. The smile she gave him was wide lipped, white teethed, and entirely contrived to win his good will. Aaron felt instant sympathy for her parents. This one would be impossible to handle.
"Are those the runabouts everyone has been talking about?" she asked. "Could you teach me to ride one?"
"Miss Tremont is giving lessons," Aaron told her. "If you take a place in line, she'll teach you."
"But I want you to teach me. Please. Major Fitzbeth promised you'd teach me, and she never lies."
Aaron shot a quick glance toward where Patton still held the middle-aged woman at bay. He had a strong suspicion who Major Fitzbeth was.
"Is the major a tall woman, about forty, and muscled like a draft horse?"
The girl laughed. "She hates when people notice her age."
"You don't look much like her."
Tossing her hair, the girl gave him a conspiratorial grin. "She's only my temporary guardian. I mostly take after my mama, though she says a lot of my dad is in me too, and maybe some of my grandpa. Now, are you going to teach me? I'll bake you a cake if you do, only somebody has to show me how to bake one right so I don't catch anything on fire again."
Aaron chuckled. "How can you catch something on fire while baking a cake?"
"Well. " Looking down, she scuffed her toes. Aaron wasn't fooled for a second. "I put too much wood in the stove, and then it wouldn't catch fire so I soaked it with kerosene, and then it sort of went boomf. That's why mama said I had to go with the major since the major was leaving anyway. She said I needed more watching than she had time to give."
She peered up at Aaron, hitting him with fake innocent eyes. "That was five months ago. I'm eleven now. I really don't need to be watched anymore. In three years I'd be a woman if I was still in Isabella. " She grimaced. "I gotta wait another six extra years over here."
Aaron gave in to her smile. "When a smaller runabout is free, I'll try to teach you."
Suddenly quiet, she hugged him.
"Mister Turner? Do you have a thing for young girls?"
Aaron startled. Missy stood nearby, one hand on her hip, head canted slightly to one side, a mocking smile curling her lips. She looked like an older version of the Cathy Aaron had once known.
"She's safe from him. " Vel pulled the girl away from Aaron and took her place. "Aaron tells me he's only slept with one extra woman since he's been married, and he was drunk then. I plan on being number two tonight."
Aaron pushed her away, casting an appealing glance at Missy. "I don't know you. Please don't do this."
Vel licked her lips. "Of course you know me. People have seen us together several times today. Not so long ago you broke an egg all over my breasts. Remember. Some of it's still there. See."
Using both hands, she pulled open the front of her blouse. Buttons snapped, partially exposing one pale breast.
Vel screamed. "Leave me alone! Stay away from me! Pervert!"
Head spinning, Aaron found himself lying on the ground. His cheek stung. A large, burly man stood over him.
"Keep you filthy hands off my intended!"
Holding her blouse together with one hand, Vel buried her face in the man's shoulder.
"Jerry, he's been following me all day. I tried and tried to tell him to leave me alone, but he wouldn't listen. He keeps bothering me, and now he ripped my clothes."
Missy helped Aaron to his feet, for which he was grateful. He needed her support. His head swam, his knees trembled, and sweat dripped from his forehead. He tried to draw a shaky breath as Patton suddenly appeared between him and the man.
"She's lying," Patton said. "This woman has been baiting Mister Turner."
The man ignored Patton while Vel sobbed loudly into his chest.
"Turner, I'm calling you out. Nobody treats my intended this way. Tomorrow morning and not to first blood--to the death."
"Jerry Flintlow," somebody whispered.
Aaron shook his head as the world came back into focus. His thoughts solidified. Pushing away from Missy, he stood on steadying legs.
"Are you speaking of a duel?" The idea seemed ridiculous, barbaric, and wrong.
"I am," the man grated out. "Any weapon you chose. I'm a proven expert with them all."
"Any good with a slingshot?"
"What!"
"How about a boomerang?" Aaron asked. "A bolo? A shotgun?"
"I never heard of those."
"I guess you can't be an expert at every weapon then. I appreciate your offer. I really do, but I decline."
"B-but you can't do that," the man stuttered. "People will think you a coward. Society will ignore you."
"I'm sorry, sir," Patton said. "You really have no choice. If you refuse this duel, he is morally, if not legally, permitted to hire you killed. Normally, you'd have no problem because he'd never take the step. The consequences for him would be too drastic. Unfortunately, the woman complicates matters. With her charges against you, nobody will blame him for any action he takes."
Jerry Flintlow smiled. It was not pretty.
"Of course," Patton added,"in the unlikely event he defeats you, I'll have no choice but to call him out myself."
The man's smile faltered. Patton was much closer to Jerry Flintlow's size, and he moved very smoothly.
"You won't before I challenge his bait," Missy added. "I've been practicing self-defense and edged weapons for the last nine years. I want to see how good I am."
The sobbing suddenly stopped. When she looked up, Vel's eyes lost their broken sheen and became calculating.
The redheaded girl tugged on Jerry's sleeve. She looked up at him admiringly when he glanced down. "You must be really brave. Mama told me all about Mister Turner. I didn't think anyone would face him again--not after he killed a Talent Master."
Aaron's
mouth went dry. Very few people outside the Clans knew about his final duel with Haarod Beech, the man who murdered his family.
Every eye in the crowd fastened on him. Most were scornful or filled with doubt. A few were speculative. Jerry's brows lowered in sudden thought. He pushed Vel away.
"This isn't right. Maybe she is lying. She always had a little vixen in her, and she's pulled this one a couple other times. Sorry, honey, but I want nothing to do with a she-cat like you."
He slid away through the crowd. Shoulders straight, face hard, Vel followed with curses on her lips.
Aaron let his eyes roam around the crowd. "Who is Jerry Flintlow?"
Dawn Rayson moved forward. "He's the son of David Flintlow, owner and president of the First National. Jerry Flintlow has gained a reputation for dueling. Several people have died. Others have been maimed."
"Great," Aaron said, disgusted. "Just what I need. Miss Bayne, have Mister Jeffries step up his efforts against the First National. Tell him to ignore the cost. I'd rather be alive than rich."
"May I suggest you leave the country for a while?" Major Fitzbeth moved between Patton and Aaron. "Several governments have requested you visit your countryman in Chin."
"Christ!"
Fortunately for Aaron, nobody recognized the word as profanity.
"I've been trying to find you for the past half-year," Fitzbeth said. "Despite living in the open, you are harder to track down than was Mistress Turner. After I found her, she told me where to find you in N'Ark. In N'Ark, Miss Bivins told me I could find you here. " The major shook her head. "And to think I passed through Jutland seven months ago."
"Hello, Daddy," the redhead said. Grabbing his hand, she gave him a look that screamed imp.
Aaron groaned.
The major nodded solemnly. "Your wife asked me to deliver her to you."
"Mama told me to give you her love," the girl added,"only she didn't mean it. Chet says hi, but he didn't mean it either because he doesn't remember you even though I do. Bret wouldn't say anything. He was still mad at me because his arm broke when I pushed him out of a tree."
Aaron groaned again. Damn. His life had been running so smoothly. For the first time in years he'd felt happy. He had been satisfied. "You're Autumn?"