by P. S. Power
If they wanted to fight... Well, who could blame them? A sworn man or women had to obey their liege. No matter what. Oh, there was room to argue the merits of an act, but a direct order had to be carried out. In return, they knew that, as long as that was all they did, nothing would ever come back to haunt them. It shouldn't have, even in this case. If things had been ordered properly. Well, they didn't know it, but they still would have died for the action, but it would have been illegal for Gerent to kill them. Not that it would have protected them from what was coming.
Worse, at least to his way of thinking, neither of them had any clue at all where this Jimson was. They tried to tell them what they knew, at any rate, even knowing that they weren't going to live much longer. There was fear in them, but also bravery, and dignity, after a fashion.
Finally, as the conversation died down, the other guards shifting uneasily, since this kind of thing affected them directly and really hit home, Baron Reves cleared his throat. It was a weak sound, as if he didn't know what to do, or what was intended.
"Are we to... Hang them then?" It was clear that the man expected much worse, and most of the Counts and Countesses nodded. Dorgal did too, clearly thinking that it was good enough. Gerent however stepped forward, and shook his head.
"No." That got everyone else to look at him, suddenly worried. Of course they thought that he was going to insist that they torture the men first. Castrating them at the very least. He'd done that to the Count, hadn't he? Which to most of their minds was the much bigger and more important issue. Except that these men had just been following orders. Even if they hadn't been. It was confusing perhaps, but under the law, they were only partially guilty, and that on a technicality.
Instead he pulled out the cutter that had taken their old leader's life. About half of the people with him turned away, so as to not witness what they thought he was going to do.
"They have to die, but we should let them have the option of doing it honorably. They were misled. That can't excuse the crime they committed, but-" He held the weapon out to Tallis, who just stared at him, for a very long time. A minute. Then two.
Finally his callused hang came out, and he bowed. Only a little. Probably figuring that if he were going to die, he might as well seem regal about it, and not servile.
Gerent did it back, going much lower, as the man took the weapon from his hand.
"That cutter has a foot and a half sweep. It's the same one that Count Rodriguez used to maintain his own honor." Standing back he carefully didn't explain the rest of it. These men didn't need to hear it.
Kneeling, the man looked up at the sky, his dun colored heavy trousers on the neatly trimmed grass of the lawn. Holding the silver handle, he touched the sigil, which was engraved on the side.
"For honor!" Then in one motion he took the cutter across his neck.
Nothing happened for a moment. He went still, and his head stayed in place. Until the blood started to push out through the flesh, and his head came off. Sliding to the ground with a soft thud.
Gerent retrieved the weapon and then offered it to the other man, who was shaking in fear. He didn't blame him. Death wasn't exactly the best option most days. On this one it was, so he held the weapon out, waiting for an attack to come. For the desperate and tough man to strike out or run, seeking life.
The man just echoed the moves of the other however, and knelt, blood from his cohort pooling on the dirt, not soaking in yet.
"Mary!" With that word he ended his own life, his head falling faster.
Gerent wondered who Mary was. His wife? A lover? Or perhaps a child? He doubted that he'd ever really know. Everyone bowed their heads, somber and possibly a little sick feeling. He felt... Very little for the men. They'd gotten lucky, actually, that he'd been there. Hanging had been put for as a prize for them. A way of saying that, while criminals, they weren't evil. That they didn't deserve torture for what they'd done.
They did, but it wouldn't help anyone now. Letting them end their own lives, almost painlessly, wasn't for them really. Or for Petra. She didn't strike him as a cruel person, but she may well have wanted them to suffer for what they'd done more.
No, this was for the other guards, even if they didn't know it. The ones watching, so that they wouldn't walk around in endless fear, thinking that following orders would have them end without anything. Not even their honor.
Tovey stepped toward the Baron and bowed, then spoke calmly, as if the whole thing had been planned.
"Please see that they are buried with full respect, and that their loved ones know that this had to be done? It's a dark thing..." The man just stepped back, moving in close to his wife, who seemed to be going into shock. She was pale and looked ready to fall down. Except that she didn't.
They managed to get back to the craft fast enough, since for some reason no one wanted to stay for a meal, though the old Baron offered. It was clear that he didn't really want to do it, but it was incredibly polite of the man, considering they'd descended on him and killed two of his people. Or, well, they hadn't done it, but that was splitting hairs, as far as Gerent was concerned. Before they left Count Peterson took the man aside and seemed to be explaining the whole thing. That might not make any difference later, but then again, what did he know? Maybe it would let the old man sleep that night, not wondering if he'd failed to prevent something evil from happening.
Getting back up to the ship was interesting, since Count Harris wanted to try flying around for a while, and even suggested that they call it a day. Everyone else seemed to agree with that thought too, except Gerent. They, the others, were the important ones for the mission however, so if that was what they wanted, then it would have to do.
Thinking about it, he shrugged.
"I can probably make another trip to Harmony then, and make certain that I have everything set up there. Should we meet again in the morning? Tomorrow, I mean? There are three more to see to."
He didn't want the others to just walk away. Not simply because everyone felt bad for the men. That was... Insane wasn't really the case, but it was also wrong. They may have thought they'd had orders, but that couldn't excuse them harming someone. Not really. Not in the way they'd done it.
The next hour involved taking everyone back to their own places, except for Countess Printer, who insisted that they come and spend the night with her.
"Well, Gerent and Petra can spend the night with me, since we have wedding plans to go over. That probably won't thrill the rest of you."
Gerent shrugged, and then shook his head.
"Can you do that on Harmony? Misha has an appointment." Or could, if that was what she wanted to do. The woman, who'd been on the ship for most of the day looked at him, amazed, and then smiled.
"Is that... Do you think it's all right?"
He just nodded, feeling a bit subdued. Not by the death, since Gerent had seen a lot of that over the years. No, it was the fact that they'd all seemed to lose their nerve after the old Count had died. Or, that might not be fair, he realized. It wasn't a lack of courage, just that most of the nobles couldn't see that these other men were to blame just as much. Not even with three others clearly pointing the finger at one of them for setting it up. Jimson.
Gerent didn't know him, but he knew a lot about him already.
For instance he had a very good idea about how the man was going to die. It didn't involve merely having a few broken bones or the pleasure of a hangman's noose, either. It would take a special kind of person to help him with that one. Not soft nobles. Not even assassins. Rougher types that didn't care about honor, just gold.
Holly, being an adventurous sort, agreed that going to the Moon sounded like a good enough lark. That just meant collecting Petra, if she wanted to go with them. It turned out that she didn't have a problem with that, once the school day was finished. She even had another day off, after that, so no work would be lost. Not that it would anyway. With the new space vessels they could live on the Moon and still be to
work every day on time, no matter where on the planet that would take them. It hadn't been something that he'd ever considered before, but he wondered at the idea as they settled in to the docking bay.
"We should all set up rooms here. The crew I mean. Not you Holly. That would just be strange." He winked at her, and then took Petra by the hand, holding it a bit more lovingly than he'd expected from himself. They didn't really know each other, but she seemed well enough pleased by the action. "A place here and one on the planet for each of us. Probably at one of the new landing places. The Space Ports."
That started a conversation about such things, and an indication from Countess Printer that she might have some land that would work for it, not too far outside of Printer, if he could come up with the magics needed to do the work on the ground itself. Not that it needed a lot, but some permanent structures would help it all seem more real. Ones that wouldn't be destroyed by the next storm.
"Especially if no one uses it for a while. We don't have all that many space vessels yet." Holly looked at Petra, but she just looked away, not suggesting anything.
Dorgal did, however.
"You should get with Tiera on that. Not for ships, but I bet she knows how many there are going to be. That, or try Timon Baker." There was a strange bit of hinting involved that seemed a little too slick, which Gerent didn't get. Not until Petra chuckled.
"And you get a stake in all that?"
Dorgal smiled, his black mustache moving on his upper lip a bit. "They're family, as it turns out. Still, that would be the source I'd go to on that one, family or not. No one else has better information, and they aren't really hiding their moves. Not yet. Getting in early is probably a good idea."
Ger didn't track it all, but everyone else seemed to be understanding the idea, so he didn't ask, not wanting to be the stupid one. What he did do, wisely, was keep his mouth shut. That way no one would instantly realize he was totally lost. Not until they quizzed him on the idea. Then it would be pretty apparent, he didn't doubt.
For all that he'd promised to chat with Petra and Holly about things, they didn't need him for that. They wanted Laurie. It was nearly midnight, Harmony time, but the woman was still awake when they called, and didn't tell them to buzz off, suggesting that they meet up at Marissa's for a late meal instead. He was hungry himself, so thought it sounded good. Everyone else looked a bit uneasy.
Erid took a breath and then nodded, however, when the device cut off.
"That might be interesting, I suppose. The Queen's mother... Rumor has it that she's not a person to trifle with. Or be around for too long, if you have the wrong gender. Not that I give great weight to what people say, in general." He looked away, embarrassed, but then turned back to them, making eye contact with Gerent. "That came from Tor."
"He'd know. Still, she isn't that bad, so let's see what happens? We need Tim, if he'll come as well." He did call that one himself, and asked the boy along.
The walk to the restaurant wasn't a long one, and the air, even if it was inside, seemed fresh and clean. Like they were standing on the edge of a pine forest, for some reason. The place needed more plants, but the lights they had around looked to be bright enough for a lot of them to grow well. When they got to the first door of the main causeway, which was done in silver on the outside, and shone like polished metal, he decided to simply do it. They had the test plants, somewhere around. If they were growing well, he'd set up a real operation for it. The place was a bit lifeless, without them. They needed animals to round things out. At least a menagerie or two. That, and farms. Not that they needed the animals for food or even fiber, like sheep. It was just that having them around made people better. It was hard to see, but having the constant responsibility was important. A lot of people on the Moon wanted for valuable work anyway, so it made sense.
He decided to ask about that, if they got a chance.
Inside the place he had to stop, just beyond the door, as half the people crowded up behind him. It was breathtaking in its beauty. There were silk hangings on all the walls, some with complex patterns, others that were just large banners trimmed with tassels. The whole place was filled with real tables, things that looked like the finest of hard wood, and there was silk on the tops of them. No one on Earth used that fabric on tables, because a single drop of liquid would ruin the cloths forever. Here, they all had them. The colors varied, but ran to reds and oranges, with a few yellows in different places, where it matched the gaily colored walls. It all flowed seamlessly into the whole as well.
They were met by an exotic woman, who had printed sheets inside nice folders for them. He didn't know what that was about, and couldn't be bothered to ask yet, distracted by the lady herself. She was black, but wore a very fine looking blue dress that was both light weight and not at all revealing. It covered everything except her arms, which practically drank the light.
It was one of those things that he doubted would be explainable to anyone else. When he thought of the woman as black, it was a deeper and more real thing than what he would have gone with for others. For instance, Princess Abbie was also black, if you didn't know that people like this existed. Her coloration was deep, but a blue-brown in tone that was, in the end, merely dark. This was different. Like coal. Like space itself.
Everything about her was that way too. Her eyes didn't have whites, and her teeth were the same color as her skin, making the woman seem like a statue carved from ebony. Except that she moved and smiled at them, her voice warm and friendly when she spoke.
"Welcome! I'm Marissa. I have a menu with suggestions on it, and of course, we can make you nearly anything you might desire, so please feel free to ask. There are six this evening?" She didn't seem to have counted, but that was right for the numbers they had with them.
Petra smiled back, looking down at the woman, who wasn't huge, being smaller than anyone there.
"Seven or eight, I think? We're expecting people."
Marissa seemed pretty happy to hear that.
"Wonderful! Come this way, please? I have just the table for you."
She did. It was larger than most of the others, and tucked away toward the back, so that they wouldn't be on display. Not that anyone that ate there really was, too much. There were statues placed around strategically, to prevent that from happening, but without creating real walls all over the place. They were all in pale stone, since that was mainly what they had around.
"I'll give you all a moment to decide, while you wait for your friends?" She didn't leave, until Countess Printer nodded at her.
"Thank you, that sounds like a good plan."
It didn't take long for Laurie to get there, and most of the table got a hug from her. Dorgal didn't, but Erid did, which made him blush. Probably since he'd just been suggesting she might be mean. She recognized him by name too. The white robes he wore probably made that easier really. The boy himself was pretty normal looking, otherwise.
Not that there was anything wrong with that. His value wasn't in his looks, that was all.
Timon came rolling in about ten minutes later, looking well rested and relaxed, with Patty just behind him. He was taller than she was now, but still thin, like Gerent was. Growing as fast as they both were it was hard to put any weight on.
The boy stopped by the table and spread his hands, smiling hugely.
"Everyone! I just came to get my assistant and take her away. He'll return in the morning." It was a funny way to say it, but everyone there already knew the plan it seemed, including Laurie. She just nodded at her boy, and then patted Misha on the hand, as she stood, looking nervous.
"I hear it doesn't hurt at all."
That got a smile from Misha, but Tim snorted.
"Hurt? Not so much. It itches horribly though, from what I've been told. Be ready for that. Well, let's go and see to this? I need to know what you want to look like. Do you want naturally blue hair? That's hard to do, but we can work something out. Green is easier..." They kept chatting as they walked
out, but the conversation at the table had died. For about ten seconds. Then Patty moved in next to him and put her hand on his arm.
"Say, do you really need Gerent for this? I have some things to talk to him about. Business matters. The Fast Transport concern. Boring stuff." That was a hint to everyone else that she didn't want company, he knew.
Not that anyone there seemed to care all that much. Petra just grinned and then looked at Patty a little harder than normal.
"Well, that's discreet enough, I suppose. I'm planning to have my way with him later, so don't tire him out too much."
His friend, who he was trying to avoid for her own good, took his hand and nodded somberly.
"All right. This time. Come on." She tugged at him a little too roughly for it to seem like they were really going off to do anything fun. At least nothing that he'd enjoy. When they got into the hallway in front of the restaurant she pointed back the way that he'd come. It was weird, but she took him back to his own ship and climbed on board like she owned the thing or something. They were alone then, at least. She didn't insist they go to the bridge where Kimi was, so it was clear that she didn't need a trip anywhere.
"Is anyone else here?" She whispered it, as if there might be listeners just around the corner.
"The whole crew is on liberty, except for Kimi, who's the pilot for the moment. What's going on?"
She looked around, and then shrugged.
"Kolb approached me, earlier today, and said that you'd sent him and that I'd figure out what that meant? I put him in charge of our secret enforcement branch. You know, in case we need to kill anyone, or kidnap them. He seemed... A little too happy to hear that we were going to have one of those, to be honest. He wants to know who we're letting into the inner circle? Everyone or..." She waited, her face blank.
Gerent tilted his head, playing the game as best he could.
"We're keeping this small, since it's mainly about watching the immortals and making certain they don't go power mad. So, if they're in charge of anything else, they can't really be part of this. So, um... Douglas Baker, Tenent and Tess? Technically I shouldn't be part of it either, what with my important plant related tasks, but I'll just have to watch myself for corruption. Well, you can do that for me." He smiled, but it wasn't all that happy. It had been a real trial, that day, so far.