by P. S. Power
He bowed, this time going lower. It was, for dealing with a noble, a rather nicely done thing on her part. First she'd offered her own life, in a way that meant she truly expected to die that day, to protect those she served. Then she changed the road they were on smoothly, and turned their little scene in the other room into them giving her help with a problem.
They had, but it wasn't why they'd come.
Gerent smiled. "I'll send that gold along in a few days, if possible. This is too gruesome to leave on you, Duchess."
They bowed again several times and she patted both him and Dorgal on the arm, and then called in several sturdy looking men to take the parts of McKenzie away. That... Started another fight.
Luckily it wasn't that big of a happening. The guards were McKenzie's fellow sworn men, and didn't know what had happened, or at least why. So they fought in the hallway, knocking holes in the walls with their force lances, as Dorgal and he just stood this time, understanding that they weren't going to be harmed.
The Duchess didn't even call out for them to stop. It was pretty clear that the woman didn't see a good way out of things this time, since her men were attacking them both, without cause. It was the other side of the Liege Lord thing, wasn't it? If your men misbehaved, you were punished for what they did, because, after all, it could only take place on your orders. She just pulled her dagger and tapped her chest to turn her shield off, then stabbed the blade at her own stomach hard enough that the guardsmen that noticed it called out in shock and stopped fighting instantly.
"Duchess!"
It was Dorgal that got there first, putting his hand in front of the tip of the weapon, stopping it with his shield.
"None of that now. This is just a little misunderstanding. These men didn't know that their fellow was a wanted man. He fooled many. Let's not make an issue of this. I'm sure that Prince Gerent didn't take offense, did you?" He looked hopeful.
In fact, a good part of the look told Gerent that, if he had a problem with a little attack amongst allies, he'd better eat it. He understood the concept however. You just didn't buy trouble if you could help it. That had this situation written all over it, in letters even he could read. Glaring, if subtly done.
Gerent nodded. "I agree. Let's explain this. I can't give you all the information gentlemen, but I think you'll understand..." They didn't, until he got to the part about what the men that had worked with McKenzie had done, after they found out they were tricked. He didn't use Petra's name, but he didn't doubt that they could figure it out.
"We can't let this out, for other reasons. Please keep it to yourselves? It's a matter of some delicacy."
They didn't speak about it after that. In fact, the men didn't even speak at all, they just bowed, and Dorgal rolled his eyes as they tried to leave.
"He meant to ask you not to speak about it, until it's resolved. Not for you all to kill yourselves to keep his secret. Just, you get the feeling here, let's not tell all the spies at once, shall we?"
One of the men looked relieved at least. He wasn't even the youngest of them.
They smiled a lot and bowed for a while until the body was gone, then left, setting up the fast craft without much hesitation, hoping to leave before the next wave of attacks came.
Gerent got them to the ship, and felt the weariness of it. A bone deep realization that there was still more to do, and as far as he knew, it was going to be hard to figure it all out. Maybe impossible. Or it might be, if he tried to do it all himself. He had, if not noble friends, then at least connections, now. That was worth almost as much.
Nearly.
He fretted over what to do next, who to approach for aid in this. Finding Jimson. How did you locate one man in a place as large as the Capital of the whole land? A single thread in a blanket. Who could know that sort of information? Shrugging he went to Tor's place and settled the craft in the landing area. That being the large, mainly hard packed earth section, in front of the magical palace. There were no festivals going on, but he and Dorgal had to wait for about half an hour, so that everyone could get out of the way. Then he waved to the man.
"I'm going to take the Tim-craft. Can you get into orbit for about... I don't know, until I call you? In orbit over the Capital, in case I need you?"
There were some raised eyebrows, but he agreed after a while. That left the area open for people to walk in and get ice. Gerent didn't have a clue what to do next. Oh, he could call in the smart people, and beg for help, but that didn't...
He had what he needed though, didn't he? Everyone kept hinting that Collette and her family were spies. That hadn't slipped past him. What was the point of that kind of person if they didn't have information? In fact, he'd heard about people buying packets of information from them. That sounded kind of random, like you just got the latest news, or had when he'd heard about it, but it was a place to start.
The next part was going to be a bit of work, he thought, except that... Well, would it? He knew Collette, and she'd gotten several of the new communication devices. Was she the kind of person that would have given her own father one of those?
Betting that at least Bonita was, Ger looked at his own device and found Baron Coltress in about four minutes. He didn't really know what to say to the man about his problem, but taking a deep breath, he hit the sigil.
At first nothing happened as he stood in the middle of the open area between the great walled city, all tan and huge, with a magical river on the top, and a brilliant white and cream palace that had real gold trim. Just as he was about to give up, only thirty seconds later, since he was feeling nervous, a good looking slightly older man, blond like Collette, answered, his face looking professional.
"Coltress here. How may I help you today, sir?"
"Hello. Um, Gerent Lairdgren. I need to find a man, that may, or may not, be in the Capital. His name is Jimson, and he was until about a year ago, or a little more, he was a sworn man of Count Rodriguez. The dead one. He's probably sought similar work, and I don't think he's hiding, but I can't guarantee that."
He wondered if the man was going to deny knowing anything at all, or even suggest that he find someone else to help him with that kind of thing. Instead he stroked his chin lightly, and then nodded, very slowly and almost imperceptibly.
"I'll need some time to look at my records. What would this be worth to you, do you think?"
Gerent thought about that and then shrugged. It was pretty important to him. Not on the level that he'd sell his new life for it, or the pain of an innocent person, but other than that, he was willing to deal.
"Five diamonds, each the size of my thumbnail, all identical. If you don't want them when you see them, I'll give you a thousand gold for it. I don't want you to be taken by surprise, when I find this man, he's going to wish he could die before the end comes. I mean that too."
The man whistled. Kind of like Patty did sometimes when impressed. Maybe it was a spy thing?
"That sounds like a grand bargain for me, except for the part where cheating you would be worse for business than the gems are worth. The going rate for this kind of thing would be about twenty gold. More if it takes active work to find what you need."
Gerent nodded, and then smiled, not wanting to look stupid or naive.
"I understand. I'll back my original offer if you can have that for me inside a week. Sooner is better. Try not to let anyone else know about this? I also need to hire some particular men... I can handle that however. Thank you. Connect with me when you find something?"
"It will be done."
It was a strange way to say it, but he tapped off then, since the other man had already. Then he walked slowly, heading to Tor's place. He had his own little house too, he recalled. It wasn't a vast palace, but he and Boxy had done well enough there, hadn't they? It wasn't enough for a fine lady like Petra, so he'd need something closer to town, or at least some city. A bigger place, like what Tor or Timon had. Something that she could be proud of.
Possibly on
Harmony? They didn't have places that large there however, did they? In all his trips he'd never gone into anyone's home. That probably said something, didn't it? That they didn't want him around their lives? That, or, when he thought about it, that he hadn't stayed long enough to even talk to people most of the time. He ran everywhere practically. In most cases he didn't even communicate with anyone unless he wanted something, or to find out what was going on. On a whim he hit the sigil for Tim, thinking that it would be good to just talk to someone. Oh, it would probably end up with him doing more work, but that was life for the moment.
Patty's face came on to the flat pale surface, looking as real as life, if smaller. She smiled when she saw him, which was nicer than what he expected from her, given their past.
"Gerent! I was just thinking about you. Is... everything all right?"
He'd stopped walking again, about fifty feet from the front of the green grass of the palace lawn. There was no wall for Tor's, just grass, looking like an emerald in the tan that surrounded them.
"Yep. I actually just called to check in and see how everyone was doing there?" He didn't mention the events of the day, which was probably a good point. Duchess Keen might be embarrassed about it. She was another person he needed to keep in touch with, if he didn't want her to get the idea later that he was in the wrong, and had killed her guard just to make a statement.
What that message would be, he didn't know.
They just talked, for a time. Like they used to, after a fashion. She asked a lot about what he was doing, and he hid most of it. Just like the old days, when they traveled together. He did the same with her, and she hinted at things he didn't know and wouldn't clarify anything. He loved her, but it occurred to him that he'd never really known her very well. It was hard, but also true, he realized.
As he did that, came to that conclusion, the conversation found a natural place to stop and he took it, not wanting to be a burden to his friend. When her face vanished, he felt a silent pang of remorse, for what he'd never have.
The feeling was as real as anything he'd ever felt for another person. She wasn't just his love, in his heart, but also just about the only person that he didn't fear. The others... Well a few of them were fine. The King, Tor, and Laurie, those three scared him so badly that wetting himself was a real risk, when in their presence. Tiera... Well, the first time he'd seen her, she'd saved his life, taken revenge for what those prison guards had done to Patty and him, and then told off the King and pretty much demanded that Count Lairdgren adopt him. That was a sort of power he didn't understand.
It was intimidating.
Timon was his friend, but even if he was a boy, Gerent had always looked up to him. Not just physically either. He was smarter than almost anyone, wasn't he? That he bothered to give Ger any thought was amazing. The rest of the family held only one threat for him. That they could simply decide one day that he didn't belong. He didn't, so that was probably going to happen. Except that, after he killed thousands of people to save everyone else, they hadn't shunned him, even if some of those people had been their own flesh and blood relatives.
Collette and her mother were scary too, if in a very different fashion. They represented lust and a simple feeling that he was going to be killed for touching them. Or they had. Maybe that had left, now that he knew he was different than he'd always thought? Not a commoner at all.
Petra...
She was, when he considered her for a bit... Fine.
It made him blink, but he realized that he didn't fear her either. Oh, she could beat him in a fight, he didn't doubt at all, but the fact was, outside of practice, she wouldn't be doing that with him. Not against him, at any rate. She was, as far as he could tell, just a good person.
His betrothed. Not his beloved, yet, but that would come. He kind of thought that it might have already. There was fear of that idea, sure, but he could live with it. No one that had been him, survived what he had, would ever give in to something that small. The fear of having something better. The risk of it not coming.
He was just about to walk into the giant dwelling when he realized that Collette had come out, and was smiling at him, a communications device, one of the new good ones that Terry had copied for them all, in her right hand.
"He's here, father. I can pass that to him, yes. I'm sure it won't be an issue..."
She waited for the man to leave the device before speaking to him.
"Gerent? Daddy called and told me that you wanted some information? He said that the man you seek is working in the city household of Sir Hessian. That's on the north western side of the Capital. I can take you there, or draw a map? It isn't hard to find."
"A map would be good. I'll handle the rest. I need to find a tavern first. The right kind." It sounded funny, so she smiled at him.
"I have a nice brandy if you'd rather?"
He leaned down and kissed her. Gently. It wasn't romantic, but he managed it well enough that she pressed into him.
"Thanks. I don't need drink however, just to hire a few people. The wrong kind. Can I get some gold from the vault for that? You probably don't want to know why. Not really."
"Oh? Is this man going to be killed then?" She all but whispered the words, as they got into the front room, a great stone looking place, with marble floors and interior columns of the same material that went nearly three stories up. He'd seen it before and still felt a bit in awe, when he saw it again.
He just nodded. "Oh, yes. Legally even. That isn't a problem. That...Well, like I said, best not to ask."
Gerent had to work for a while to get everything into place. First he found the house he needed and located the man, asking around about him. He was, surprisingly enough, a good looking fellow. The kind that would seem proud of it even. Not too tall, with blond hair and a scar on his face that was faint enough that he looked mildly rakish, but not deformed. When the man came out of the house, an hour later, looking a bit stern, Gerent was ready for him.
He had a plan, and simpered at him a bit, as if smitten, even as he spoke.
"Excuse me, sir, you've been requesting me?" It wasn't cold or violent, but menace flowed out of the man anyway, even toward someone that was near a head taller than he was and clearly noble, dressed in rich clothing, with a magical carriage right there. That meant that he was likely an important person, so the man was pushing his luck, speaking like that.
Gerent had lived too long on the road not to get the basic idea. This was a man who, for all he didn't have much, thought of himself as both deadly and powerful. He was dangerous, that was clear, because the fool didn't know when not to push his luck.
He smiled at him and looked away, a little shyly. He flirted with the man, using his eyes, not knowing if it would work. He might only like women, after all. That probably wasn't the case, and he worked with nobles, so he'd at least follow their social rules, and not be mean about it.
"Asking after you, not asking for you to come out. That seems a bit forward, doesn't it? I... Would you be available to spend some time with me? Just to... talk. I don't want you to think that I want anything... Untoward from you. Unless... Unless you want to?" Oh, sure, the other man didn't seem the kind to love men exclusively, and didn't know him, but Gerent had dressed himself as if he were headed off to the King's Palace a few minutes later. He looked wealthy beyond normal measure, and coin, to a certain kind of power hungry man, or woman for that matter, counted for more than mere interest. He was baiting the hook with as many lures as he could, not wanting the man to become wise to the trap.
"I don't see why not. I'm off duty in three hours, can you meet me here? Or is that not discrete enough?"
"No, no, that will be fine. I'll return then. Thank you. Oh, I'm Ger, by the way. Gerent Lairdgren? Prince Gerent of Harmony, the Envoy to Earth. I'm very pleased that you want to come and... talk with me."
The man smiled coldly, since that was part of who the monster was. "Jimson. Pleased to meet you."
Guard or not, he h
ad gold in his eyes to match the most willing of street walkers, by the time the carriage moved away. Having enough confirmation to get things started, Jimson being the same name and the fact that he was pretty certain anyone related to Collette would do good work. He'd check the rest later however. Truth amulets were made for a reason.
It took most of the time he had to hire the five large men he needed. They were all of a type, having been in prison before. One had been on a prison ship even, working coast duty, during the Austran war. He paid half up front, but they were all happy enough for the work. It required going to the worst kind of tavern, however. Just trying to walk into the place two people tried to rob him, and another, totally unrelated to anything, mistook him for someone that owed him funds and tried to stab him as he walked past. None of it worked. Shields were good for things of that nature.
Then he had to figure out where to store the men, which ended up being in his little house in the Wildlands. It was a ways away, and isolated, but he could get there so quickly that no one even got bored on the trip. Not that any of them had flown before. They were about on the bottom of the heap, socially. That meant that the trip through the air was almost incomprehensible to them. They didn't show fear however, and gaped at the view of his little place when they stepped out.
"Gods and fishes!" One man swore, as he looked at the others. "Who are you, Tor the Mighty Hisself? This be one'r them magic places. The little kind."
Gerent shook his head.
"No, I'm someone else. I'll be back, in about an hour or so. As we agreed, gentlemen?" They weren't that, but being rude to his new friends wouldn't help them like him.
They all agreed to wait, not getting that they were about three hundred miles or so from anywhere of interest, unless they wanted to look at a magical floating river in the air. Even that would require waiting for morning. It just wasn't worth looking at the area in the gloom.
He worked up a dozen plans and alternate ideas as to how to get Jimson to go with him. When he got there however, the man walked out, dressed in clean, but worn clothing, and looking a good bit like the guard he was. Gerent just smiled, and opened a door on the passenger's side of the craft.