by P. S. Power
"I shouldn't have gotten you involved in this. I just didn't know what else to do. Killing him won't actually fix anything, as much as it feels like the only option left. I should have married Count Overland, I was afraid that he'd die before the deadline and I'd still be stuck spending my twenty-second birthday running through the woods naked, fighting for my life as a team of soldiers hunted me down for sport. Rico has his men do that with girls. I've had spies on him for years. That doesn't mean I should have gotten you involved."
"I know. Which is why you need to make it worth my while." Timon sounded rough and cold, which was how he felt inside now. It wasn't constant, but it took work to seem like a real person anymore. Sometimes it was too much work to bother with. "Do you think I didn't know what you thought you were getting when this started? A replacement Tor, since he was already out of your grasp. A malleable child that would do whatever you wanted, without thinking about it, because he didn't know any better? Except that it had to be clear that I was never that."
It was to him at least, but she laughed and then finally turned to look at him, over her shoulder.
"Make it worth your while? How? Sex? The first thing you said to me was that we wouldn't be doing anything like that for a good long while. Give you secret information about the King, or my parents? I can't. It's against the rules for one thing. On the other side of it, you always seem to have already figured everything out by the time I learn of it anyway. Gold? You have more of that than I do already, I'd wager. You even have as much loyalty from my own family, after giving Mark a job like you did. What can I give you at all that has value to you?"
Timon shrugged. Then, forcing himself more than a bit, he joined her at the rail and put his hand on her back, trying to be comforting. She leaned into him gently, as if for warmth, it was really for comfort.
"I don't really know yet. I haven't decided who or what I want to be yet. It was clearer before, but Tor messed that one up for me, didn't he? So... For now you could try being a good wife? Actually pretend to mean it? I know that it will be hard for you, but we either need to fix this some other way or learn to live with each other, because I'm not going to be one of those nobles that sets his woman up on a country estate and forgets about her. My parents would disown me if I tried it, for one thing." It was a joke, since they really wouldn't do any such thing, but instead of chuckling at all, Trice started to weep a little. It was nearly silent, the line of moisture making a single track down her soft brown cheek.
"I should have just killed myself, shouldn't I? After Galasia and what happened there... No one would want me, would they? Well, Gerent, but..." She paused and took a large shuddering breath, looking away again. "I can't. I... He's a good man, but he's so warped, physically. It isn't fair. I should love him. He fought so hard for me, in those cells. They... The jailers raped him too. Because he tried to fight them, to protect me. They would have left him alone if he'd just done what they'd said, but he fought, even though it meant he was beaten and... Every time. Each time they came for me he tried, even when he couldn't hardly move at all, his arms and legs broken. He's the best person I've ever met and..."
She stopped, glanced at Timon, checking to see if he was going to be offended by the statement. He wasn't. Anyone that couldn't see that Gerent was a better person than Timon, was a fool.
She went on her voice cracking under the strain.
"I can't make myself love him. Isn't that evil of me? Everything he's done is noble and good and I used him, over and over, trying to get the Larval to attack him, so that they wouldn't go after Tor. I... should be a better person. Instead I'm like this, making you marry me, so that I'll be safe. Making Gerent pretend to be Tor, as bait. I should die."
Timon knew what she was really getting at. It was more than just her own failures that were at issue, that was clear. She'd been beaten and raped herself, and her protector, a person she felt she should have been guarding, had been hurt trying to save her. Then at every step she was being put in place to do it again. Now it was his turn in her mind, but it was always going to be someone, given the nature of her profession. She couldn't even properly quit, since it was part of a long term plan of the King's.
"Except that you didn't force me to do anything. I can see the potential value in being linked to you. For one thing, even Tor doesn't know it yet, but by protecting you like this, I've created a huge debt for him. One that he'll be centuries paying off. He values you more than you really know, I think. You might want to hold off on your judgment of Gerent. If I have it right, as I mentioned, he's going to end up tall and good looking. Give him a few years. We just had to act now and..."
Timon shook his head, trying to clear it, the boat still not moving at all.
"Tor did something to me. Without my permission. He doesn't know that I know yet, but he changed the way I think, so that I'll have guilt and feel embarrassed about things. I think that I responded to you with that influencing me, not understanding why I did it at first. I really should have said no, logically speaking, but I rationalized my thoughts, so that it seemed like a workable idea. I don't know what I'm going to do about it, but he didn't have a right to change me like that, without my permission. It's... In a way it's nearly as bad as what Nora did to me. Both of them did things to change me that will last forever, to hurt me. I killed her for it, but he's my brother, and now, thanks to him, if I do that, I'll actually end up feeling bad over it."
She seemed baffled by his words, and stopped crying then, her face turning to him, her blue eyes looking black in the night.
"Um... I don't think I understand, he... did something to you?"
"Right, while I slept at his house, I think, he changed my pattern, so that I have more emotions than I used to. I know that he thinks my not having them was a problem, but they're negative emotions, and I have no coping skills for them, like everyone else does. It couldn't come at a worse time either. I keep half expecting to wake up feeling awful for killing Countess Alan. She deserved it, but I didn't have to justify that inside my own mind before. I shouldn't have to now either. I told him I didn't want it, so he did it in secret."
She didn't say anything for a long time, then she stood straight and moved closer to him, hugging him warmly, without overdoing it.
"Then just tell him that. How you feel about it. How it was a different kind of force, stripping your will from you and that he didn't have a right to do it. You don't need a complicated revenge here. He'll feel so bad, once he thinks about it, that this would punish him more than a beating. It's the problem with good people. They actually feel bad for the things they've done."
"Being good is over-rated. People only care if you're good because it benefits them. I was free of that and could just make decisions based on thought and study. Now I have to work to do that, or will, later. Why can't it be enough to just be as right as possible given the situation?"
No answer came, and the woman, his wife, walked slowly to the pilot's house, hitting a light sigil that was worked into the wall, just inside the door.
"Let's make our visit here. I..." She looked at her left hand and frowned, her face still damp from crying, since she hadn't wiped it away yet. "I forgot that I could hurt people like that. I really didn't mean it. I wasn't even mad, just annoyed, because you knew things I didn't. Again. It won't happen again, I promise."
Timon looked at her and made himself smile, in a way that had to seem friendly, since she did it back. It was one of the good things about being attractive really. People just assumed you were being kind most of the time, regardless of the evidence.
"I know. Of course that's what every abuser claims to their spouse in villages all over the kingdom, isn't it? 'I didn't mean it.' 'It will never happen again.' 'It was the magic hand that did it, not me.' Your kind is all the same that way." Shaking his head forlornly got her to make a gasp that was part laugh at least. It was a start, if they were going to get along.
Not nearly enough. She was pushy with him and didn't
realize it. That was going to cause friction, if she couldn't learn to back off that way a bit.
For instance, she went right to the controls and stood at the large wooden wheel with its spoked handle and projections to allow them better control in a storm. The controls were basic, but the assumption was clearly that she was the one that knew how to sail a boat, not him. Which was correct, except for the fact that he'd made this one and knew how it worked.
Worse, she figured out how to make it go almost instantly, pushing the wooden looking lever forward slowly to get them started.
"Whoa! I barely touched that and we're already skipping on the water! Let's see..." she eased it back, so that they were moving at a gentle speed of about ten miles per hour, which was still quick for a boat. It meant they were at the fifth dock of the port not half an hour later. No one met them, but they were able to climb up without help or having to fly. On the way out Timon made the control vanish and then hid the doors going into the hold and lower decks, so that no one would steal their things, since that would annoy him.
Trice didn't look nervous, even though it was clearly a less than savory area. No one spoke to them, but he could feel the eyes on them from the shadows, the scent of cheap ale coming from several establishments as they walked past, laughter coming from within, most of it being male, but not all. Printer wasn't a horrible place, but it was a port city and thrived due to its shipping and willingness to look the other way when it came to several kinds of infractions. Slavery for instance. It was technically forbidden in the kingdom, but Timon had heard rumors about what some nobles did in their own territories.
Really, that was probably one of the issues that people had with King Richard. He wouldn't allow the practice, and that caused friction. Not that Counts and Barons couldn't get away with it in their own areas, but his disapproval made them feel judged, and no one was wild about that, were they?
The trip took some time and Trice had a force lance held in her right hand, ready to fight if anyone bothered them or tried to stop them from getting to the Countess. He didn't bother doing the same yet, because it would look hostile if they both were set up that way and if the guard saw them, it would be better if they didn't look like assassins. To that end, when he got closer to the large stone building that was their destination, he made his clothing a nice bright green velvet. With silver buttons and black boots. It made him seem younger than he wanted, but his disguise amulet would hold him in pretty good stead that way.
Seeing what he was doing, Trice nodded and shifted into a rather pretty blue velvet gown. On her head a funny pointed hat in a slightly lighter color appeared, with a gauzy veil coming off of it.
"Ready for the ball. Though really, you should be in dark blue. This matches my eyes, so I can't change it." She smiled at him, her force lance going into a little pocket on her right side, that was hidden by a fake seam fairly well.
Looking down he did it, shifting the color so that it would complement her clothing choice.
"Well, you're the girl, so I'll leave that kind of thing to you. We should go in with shields on." They'd turn on if threatened, but sometimes a sudden ambush could slip past enough to be bothersome. It was how she'd accidentally hurt him earlier after all, so he didn't need to make a big point of it.
They both did it, as they walked to the side door of the place, since that was the one that had lights going up to it. There was a bell, but it was a bit too high for him to comfortably reach. Trice had to stand on tiptoe to make it work, which was ridiculous. The point of such a thing was so that people could call attention to themselves.
Three rings clanged out, and then they waited. It was late enough that people might have been at an early meal, or perhaps getting an armed force ready to meet the unexpected guests. It was the later one, he realized, when the three women in burgundy appeared behind them, covertly pointing weapons of their own as the door opened to show an equally armed Holly Printer, ready to fight.
There was silence for a few seconds and then Timon smiled up at the rather tall woman, feeling his heart race, being surrounded as he was.
"Hello. Timon Baker and my wife, Patricia? I know it's late, but we were in the area and thought we should check in with you and see if you wanted visitors?" It was a rude and pushy thing to do, just showing up like that, but also a very noble one. It wouldn't even be out of place for them to stay for weeks, or even months, after just appearing like this. There was a whole set of low ranking nobles that lived that way, just hitting up relations and casual friends as they moved from place to place, not working or adding value to the world at all.
After a second the giant woman descended on Trice, hugging her shield, which had her eyes going wide, but she did the same with him, checking to make certain it wasn't just Patricia doing that. The Countess had hers on as well, active already, since she was the one with strange callers on her steps.
"Come in, please! You both looked incredible. Marriage suiting you well then?"
The woman didn't pull them in, and the guards followed, their eyes searching the world behind them, in case of attack. It was their job, so he couldn't blame them for it.
Trice spoke calmly, her eyes warm and a little playful as she looked at Holly, who was dressed in military style canvas, in the same burgundy as her women. Her house colors most likely. It looked good on her. They hugged her slim body, but not so tightly it would impede movement. She hadn't put her weapon away yet. The woman was blonde and had shoulder length hair, and a nice nose that reminded him a bit of Kara the Royal Guard, large and commanding. She was only a few years older than his wife he noticed, meaning that she was very young for a Countess.
Her father had died in the same accident that had killed Tovey's father. A large hill falling on them during a hunt. Everyone knew that it wasn't chance of course, but Tovey was nearly certain that Countess Printer hadn't killed her da, or his. Someone else had, but who that was, no one could say.
Timon suspected Count Lairdgren. There wasn't a lot of proof to that end, but it made sense, being that he had two new and rather kind people in charge of their counties, instead of the older two. Duchess Keane had mentioned that Tovey's father had been hard to deal with at times.
It wasn't a lot to go on, so he didn't mention the idea at all.
Instead his wife smiled at the other woman and looked down and to the right, then back up at her, holding her eyes with her own.
"We were wondering if you wanted some company tonight? Later? Timon won't be participating, but I said that he could watch." She seemed genuine in her offer and Holly looked at them both and then smiled, rather professionally.
"Of course. I thank you for the offer and welcome it. We were about to sit down to dinner, would you join us? It's a bit simple, since we weren't prepared for guests, but I think there will be plenty of it."
Timon smiled and thought before speaking. Trice had gotten them in, and had arranged for them to be alone with the Countess later, without hinting that they had special information for her. At the same time she'd made a point that he wouldn't be part of it, so that Holly wouldn't have to risk breaking her own laws as to age of consent, or deny them and look like a Doretta. It was well done, except the part where he might end up watching them do things for his amusement, so that no one would feel insulted later.
It was a brilliant tool at times, the social conditioning of people that many of them didn't even realized was there, but it could be a pain when you didn't want to offend people. Most of the time he didn't care, but he also wasn't opposed to the idea, if it was needed. A Countess in her own County made him nervous. Yes, he'd never heard that Holly Printer was like Nora Allan, but no one had openly suggested that Countess Allan was a monster either. He'd gotten some little hints from Duchess Keane, but it hadn't even been a fraction of the warning that Tim had needed, because the one woman didn't want to accidentally insult the other, making claims that might not be needed or true.
If Printer was in the same mold, then this
evening might be very different than Trice thought. On the good side the woman probably didn't know they were coming, so wouldn't have poisoned food ready to make them sleep, designed to get past the detectors. He wouldn't take his amulets and weapons off in the tub either, so it would be hard to get at him unarmed. Hopefully his wife would be thinking the same way, since it would be awkward otherwise. Plus someone could try to use her against him, if she weren't protected.
It was true that Holly seemed nice and not creepy at all, but that could all be an act. A way of getting others to let their guard down, so that she could abuse them, or torture them for fun or information.
They were taken almost immediately to the table, where it was instantly clear that they were sharing her meal with her, the food being evenly divided and bulked up with extra bread and tumblers filled with wine. On the good side, even at her own table, the Countess used a small copper poison detector, which meant he and Trice didn't have to feel bad about doing the same.
She looked at the plates, seeming embarrassed, but Timon smiled at her.
"Good. That means you didn't secretly know we were coming. It would be spooky if you did. After all, we didn't think of it until a few hours ago." The tall woman smiled back and didn't seem insulted by his words, which was nice really. It was always hard to know how a high noble would react to any given situation. That was why Count Peterson had worked so hard not to call him young, or suggest that he should be protected. Doing that to a man could be a grave wound to his pride, but not doing anything might be just as bad to your own, if you were a decent person.
The tall and relatively thin woman took some bread, which was crusty and a bit dry and slathered whipped honey butter on it.
"I knew there was a reason for my simple habits. So are you making the rounds of all the people you know?" She winced as the words came out and grimaced a bit. "That makes it sound wrong. I just meant to ask if you were touring to make contacts."