by Mark Eller
Only then did Aaron notice her left hand clutched very firmly to a spot between Clack's legs. Releasing a small laugh, Melna viciously twisted her wrist before letting go and stepping back.
Aaron was impressed. Clack never flinched. He barely even changed expressions. Ignoring Melna entirely, his eyes bore into Aaron.
"Go ahead and challenge me, Turner," he begged. "Please. I won't choose pistols."
"You won't choose unarmed either," Melna said coolly. "I took you, and I'm only a beginner."
"Not today. " Aaron felt his temper settling. He had been close to declaring another challenge, and that would have been suicide. As the challenged, Clack would have the choice of weapons, and he already knew Aaron's strength in pistols. After years of fighting with the Chins, Clack would be familiar with any number of weapons Aaron sucked at. Aaron had no doubt Clack was competent with them all. "Go away, Mister Clack. You bore me."
Glaring, Clack turned and stalked off. To Aaron's surprise, the incident went unnoticed by the few people who had not yet left. Melna reached down a hand to pull him up. Her grip was firm and strong, a fact Aaron felt sure Clack could attest to.
"Tell me I was wrong," she begged. "Tell me you weren't going to jump up and hit him."
"Sorry."
"Miss Bayne is correct. You are an idiot. I just finished explaining how this league idea would be discredited if you are. Do you want to be seen as a hot-headed brawler? That wouldn't gain much respect for your ideas. To the contrary, it could ruin them. Another duel could wreck everything."
"This is Helmet's plan, not mine."
"And is it so bad? Do you think it's wrong to formulate international rules to decrease friction and strife?"
"Clack insulted and threatened my wife."
"He insulted and threatened me. We may be married, but you don't think of me as your wife. In fact, I've seen little evidence you think of me at all. From now on, I will handle my own problems, Aaron Turner, whether those problems are Mister Goldenlocks or you."
* * *
At the buffet, a number of diplomats wanted to question Aaron in private while their secretaries took notes. This left Aaron little time to eat. While he tried to chew the few bites he managed to grab, Melna acted as a universal translator, proving to be equally fluent in every language after hearing someone speak a few words. Missy watched the proceedings with a wry expression. She ate with only one hand, leaving her right hand hovering near the pistol, gunfighter style. Aaron would have been impressed if the gun's butt pointed toward her ready hand instead of away from it.
After lunch, the idea of the league was tabled for another time. Other issues were hashed over. Grievances were aired. Little was resolved. When the meeting finished, Aaron made sure it was known he would not return the next day.
Kim was missing when they returned to their rooms. Once inside, Melna set her hands to her hips and faced Aaron full on. "You promised to take me bird hunting."
"I did no such thing," Aaron replied. "I merely threatened."
"Close enough," Missy said. She patted the pistol still tucked into her waistband. "Since I plan on keeping this, you need a replacement. Because you have to go to Isabella to get it, you might as well teach Mistress Turner how to use a shotgun."
"I have no intention…" Aaron began, but Missy shook her head.
"Two estrogens beat one testosterone any day so you better give up. Besides, you're married to her. It's better she knows what you can do now rather than later. Either way, she'll find out."
Looking to his wife, Aaron caught her questioning gaze.
"Is this a Talent thing?" she asked Missy.
"Yes."
Sighing, Aaron went into his bedroom to retrieve his shotgun and a few shells. Hunting wasn't a normal pastime for him so he had only a few useful places memorized. Unfortunately, the best of those was a few miles outside of Last Chance, the small town he had landed in when first coming to Isabella. Missy probably guessed where he would go, just as she probably guessed he still had a few weapons gathering dust in the cellars beneath the Last Chance General Store. She was not a stupid woman.
Carrying weapon and shells, he walked into the living room, gathered the women in his thoughts.
Flicker
* * *
Most of a day passed before they returned. Kim grabbed Aaron when they walked through the door.
"Where the hell have you been? Do you know what I've been going through? Where is Mister Turner I ask, and no one knows! How did I know you hadn't been kidnapped? Damn you, Turner! How can I protect you if I can't find you?"
Aaron tried to gently pry her fingers from his shirt. He failed. The woman's grip was iron. Her eyes glared fury.
"I hope you had a pleasant nap," he observed wryly. "I've noticed a good sleep improves your temper. Please let me go? I frighten easily."
"Yes, release him. " Missy's voice was hard. She stood in the open doorway with the automatic gripped tightly with both hands as she stood in the classic Weaver stance. The bore centered on Kim's forehead. "I don't want to kill you, but as long as I'm Aaron's guard, I'm willing to do so. "
Kim's taut frame relaxed. She released Aaron and slowly lowered her arms. A small smile flickered momentarily about her lips.
"Very diligent," she said approvingly. She took a step back. "I'm proud of you."
Faster than a thought, she twisted and leaped forward. Her foot flicked out. Her hand struck high, and she held the revolver in a steady grip while Missy stared with incomprehension at her empty hand where a gun had once been. She shifted her gaze back to Kim and the pointing gun.
"Fast," she acknowledged,"but risky. It could have fired when you kicked it."
"I studied this thing. You still had the safety set. Don't threaten unless you are serious."
Rack Rack
"Safety's off and I'm serious. Put the gun down. " Melna's voice came from the hall. The twelve gauge's barrel poked into the open doorway. "Put it down, Kim."
Kim laughed and handed the revolver back to Missy. Aaron finally drew a breath.
"Remember we are all friends here," he begged. "Friends don't shoot friends."
Missy holstered the pistol, and Melna entered the room with the shotgun lowered.
"Of course, they don't," Melna agreed. "We were just making matters clear. We understand one another better now."
"I'm a little confused here," Aaron admitted
"It's simple enough. " Kim walked to the third bedroom. "You can come out now," she called through the door. The door opened, and the servants peered out cautiously. Kim turned back to Aaron.
"I was upset because you were out, the Lady knows where, unprotected except by amateurs. You weren't anyplace public where you would be relatively safe."
"Miss Bayne let me know you were well protected. I let her know she wasn't serious or skilled enough for unsupported body guarding. Your wife informed me that between the two of them you were more than adequately protected."
"We visited Aaron's old haunts and then went hunting. Fowl will be on tomorrow's menu. " Melna entered the room. She laid the shotgun down. "We won't eat any of it though. Aaron is taking us to Jutland tonight. " She caught Aaron's look. "I'm going with you."
"I thought we weren't leaving until tomorrow morning," Kim said.
"Changed my mind. " Aaron glanced over to the waiting servants. They were too far away to overhear lowered voices. "Gather what you want to bring and we'll find someplace private to leave from. I don't see a need to alarm the help any more than we have to. Melna, are you sure you want to come along?"
"Or what? Stay here and miss a chance to see my new home? Forget it, pal. Besides, you owe me a dinner. I bought you one, and you never returned the favor. " She mocked glared at him for a moment before her expression turned serious.
"Two other things. Your daughter said I was to come along, and now is no time for us to be separated if this marriage is to be anything but a joke. We have enough problems already. Neither of us
wanted this, but we have it. We seem to like each other. We may even respect each other. More won't happen unless we spend time together. I want this marriage to work, Aaron, but I can't run it by myself, and I can't prove myself to you if we're separated."
"For what it's worth," Missy supplied,"things feel better between you two."
"No offense, Miss Bayne," Melna said pointedly,"but I'd prefer you held your comments. This is my marriage. I'll work it out myself."
"Do I have any say in this?" Aaron asked.
Melna gave him a meaningful look. "Of course. Some.
Chapter 20
Kim hissed in surprise at the transfer. She dropped her bag and did a quick spin, looking for danger. Nothing showed except for an empty street lined by bushes and iron fencing. A light fog drifted in the night air.
"The air smells foul," she complained in a subdued voice. Bending, she recovered her bag in one fluid motion.
"Jutland is very wet," Missy explained. "It lends the area a unique ambiance."
"Smells like mold."
"Same thing," Missy said. She shivered. "It's colder than when I left. Won't be long before it snows."
"We'll be warm all the quicker if we get moving," Aaron said impatiently. "The gate is half a block up the street."
He led the way to the gate and stopped.
Something was very, very wrong. The iron barred gate stood wide open, shadowy in the dark. Past it Mistress Willow's chair lay in the pathway.
"Is it supposed to be left open?" Kim asked, suspiciously.
"No."
She moved into the opening, ghostly quiet, and stood still. Her eyes quested intently. Reaching out, she touched a bar, rubbed her fingers together, and raised them to her nose.
"Blood. " Her eyes furrowed. "Miss Bayne, take Mister Turner out of here. I'll go in and investigate."
"The Hell!" Aaron growled. Fear gnawed at his belly. "My daughter's in there--my people."
"Hisssst. " Kim gestured for quiet
"There's no need," a woman's voice said. "The Mister was loud enough. We have three crossbows lined up on you so it's best if you tell us who you are."
"And who are you?" Kim demanded.
"City guard. Now answer up."
Aaron released a breath he had not known he held. "Mister and Mistress Turner, along with Miss Bayne, my accountant, and my bodyguard, Miss--Kim, what is your last name?"
"I gave it up when my father abandoned me."
"You had all best sit tight and wait until we get someone to identify you," the guard said. "I'll tell you right now, there's been trouble. People are dead, and a child has been stolen."
* * *
Melna's belly clenched when she studied her husband. His face grew cold and colder still as he listened to the growing list of the dead and injured. Mistress Willow was gone, her throat cut at the gate. Mistress Buntson, the younger, was dead, and so was Mister Buntson. He had been bludgeoned while trying to protect his wife.
Mister Patton lay unconscious, the victim of blood loss from several knife wounds, one of them an ugly hole low in his right side.
Even though she knew none of them, Melna shuddered when hearing the details. A full half dozen masked assailants had burst into the home. Mistress Buntson tried to grab Autumn and run, but she had been tackled from behind and stabbed in the back. Mister Buntson grabbed the attacker's knife arm only to have the arm wrench free. The knife's pommel shattered his skull. Mister Patton burst into the front room. He put three people momentarily down before a fourth slipped his blade into the young man. Patton continued fighting, but he fought alone against numbers except for some unexpected help from Aaron's pet, Zisst. Even with the animal's help Patton was soon overwhelmed. The animal disappeared after the fight.
Miss Bentley, the only other witness, stood screaming as they gathered Autumn, dropped a note, and hurried out, carrying one of their companions over their shoulders. Two others leaked blood but hobbled out under their own power.
"Autumn looked at me very calmly," Miss Bentley said in a thin voice. "She looked at me real sad, not scared at all, and she said 'I'm so sorry. Everything else was so much worse.' What did she mean? Why did she say that?"
Why indeed, Melna reflected. A child with precognition?
"Miss Fulbright and Miss Coaspree," Aaron asked numbly.
"It was their night off," Miss Bentley answered.
"It comes down to this," said an older, heavyset man who had introduced himself as Inspector Hansen. To Melna, he seemed more like an accountant than a city guardsman. "They left a letter. You are to mortgage your runabout factories and convert the money into sovereigns. They will contact you later about payment."
Hansen ran a hand over his sweaty head, relocating the few hairs carefully combed over his balding pate. "We will, of course, do everything we can to get your daughter back. This will take time, so I advise you to take steps so you appear to be following orders."
"How many people will you assign to this?" Aaron's voice was dead calm. The only indication Melna saw of his distress was a slightly pale complexion.
"It will be up to the captain. I'm sure he'll put everyone he can spare on it."
"I thought that would be the case. Miss Bayne?"
"Yes."
"Find Mister Jeffries. You both have access to my accounts. Use it. Hire every detective you can find. Be discrete. They are not to make it known what they are investigating. Pay whatever they ask. Mistress Buntson."
The oldest maid stepped forward. Pools of salty moisture gathered in the wrinkled hollows of her face. Her hands were clenched so tightly Melna could see her long nails digging into her palms.
"Sir?"
"Your husband died in my employ while protecting my daughter and your co-wife. I won't let the matter rest. We'll bury your family wherever you desire. You and your remaining co-wife may stay in my employ or I will give you enough money to live on for the remainder of your lives. Does Mistress Willow have any relatives?"
"No, sir, not any still alive. She was the last of them, sir."
"Would you mind if we buried her with your family?"
The old woman took a deep breath. "We been working and living together for so long she is my family. I think she would like to lie with them."
"Then that shall be done. " Aaron looked the rest of the group over. "Miss Cartridge, I want you to see to Mister Patton. Find the best doctors and nurses. I don't mean the most popular and the most expensive. I mean the best. Do whatever it takes. " He said something Melna could not quite hear, but she caught the name Gunther and the word missing.
Inspector Hansen shook his head. "The guard should handle the investigation. We have better resources for it."
"Resources, yes," Aaron agreed. "You don't have the numbers. These others may be able to find something you've missed. If my daughter is found by the guard, unharmed, I will pay a three months bonus to every man who works the case full time. I will increase the department's yearly operating budget by twenty-five percent right now to pay for any overtime spent on this case. I will do this for you, but I expect to see people on the streets within an hour. I want reports three times a day."
Hansen's face grew red with anger. "You can't buy us. We'll do our job without you throwing around money."
Aaron's expression softened. For that single moment it became the face Melna was used to seeing. "I know. The money is to provide operating funds and a bonus for the danger you'll be in. These people have killed. Your people may be at risk, too. Don't let anyone work alone."
"I'll talk to my superiors and see what can be done."
"Thank you. " Aaron's gaze passed through the room, touched Melna, and passed on. "Kim, you are my personal guard."
Giving Kim a quick look and Melna a quicker one, he set a hand on his holstered gun.
Flicker
For the first time Melna watched while Aaron interposed reality to move himself into another locale. The air warped around him and Kim. Heat waves appeared to rise from
the floor and swirled around the area where they had stood.
"By the Lord and Lady. " Hansen took an involuntary step back. "He has Talent."
Melna beat down the hurt Aaron's dismissive look had given her. The time had come for her to stop reacting and start acting.
"Yes, he has Talent," she said. "Now a good many of you have things to do. Please see to them. Everyone who has not been given a chore should start cleaning up the area so long as the inspector is finished here. If you feel you cannot help clean at this time, then send a runner after some temps."
"And who are you to order us around," an older, sagging woman demanded. The protest seemed to cost a great deal of energy. The anger in her voice was already fading.
"I am Mistress Turner. Mister Turner and I have been married only a short while. We can discuss this later. At times like these it's best to stay busy, so let's get started, and is anybody looking for Mister Turner's pet?"
"I'm afraid not," Mistress Bentley answered.
"Well keep your eyes peeled out for it. It's a long shot, but maybe it tore off a piece of clothing or picked up something to give us an idea of what is going on. The Lady and Lord know we don't have much else right now."
Melna soon had everyone set to a task, even if the task was completely useless. Only Missy remained unused. She stood stiff and pale, her knees visibly shaking. Melna went to her and put an arm around her waist.
"Are you okay?"
"No, not really. " Missy's voice sounded low and harsh, quavering like an old woman's "Too many emotions. I didn't hear a word. Did I miss anything?"
"We have to find a Mister Jeffries. " Melna told her. "Then we have to hire some people. Aaron said you could access his accounts to pay them. Are you still receiving? Will you be all right?"
"I'm fine now. " Missy's shudder gave the lie to her words. "I stopped receiving a few minutes ago. Right now I'm dealing with the aftereffects. " She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. The trembling in her fingers slowed and almost stopped.
"I need to change," Missy said raggedly. "I sweated so much I probably stink."