Duty

by P. S. Power

  It meant that, if you had good ears and bothered to listen it was possible to hear people crying, off in the distance. Enough of them that it was clear that the problem wasn’t just about ten or twenty men and women having been taken.

  Albert didn’t react at all, pretending not to understand what they were looking at, off in the distance.

  Baron Pence walked out of his home, dressed in simple clothing. Black, but loose fitting on his lean frame. His face was drawn, as if he might not have gotten restful sleep the night before. Everything else about him was very correct seeming. He was clean and smelled nice, for instance. His hair had been perfectly cared for as well and his shave was fresh.

  When he got out to them, the man simply knelt, swallowing hard. Then he laid on the ground, his face pressed to the Earth, turned to one side, so he could speak.

  “I stand ready for your judgement. I simply ask that this be kept between us and not those I serve.” His face being in the dirt had to make it hard to see who was there.

  Getting the idea, Albert moved in and gently took the man by the shoulders, helping him to his feet. There were tears on his face, which looked honestly sad. More than that, Al could tell that he was upset about him. About having once harmed him, by accident. That didn’t really fit with the idea of the man being a soulless slaver, or even peddler of human chattel.

  Looking at Dareg, then Jeffery, Albert felt himself at a loss. Not knowing what to do, he gave the man a quick hug. With enough back pounding to show that he wasn’t expecting the supposed debt be worked off in bed.

  “That issue is already taken care of. You apologized. Yesterday? No need to carry that forward, is there? That accident was a long time ago and while I’ve carried a bit of a grudge, it was never about harming you. Not even at my most angry.” Which was actually true. Even as a cripple child, all he’d really wanted was for the man not do it again.

  Which he hadn’t, as it turned out. At least from all that Albert had ever heard. No one else had collided with a person on the ground while doing stupid tricks at any rate, so it wasn’t hard to work out that this man had stayed clean that way as well.

  Looking around, after standing back, he bowed, which had everyone else doing it, except Ankh. At first. Dareg spoke to her briefly, in what had to be the language of the far fleet and the woman smiled and tried to copy what everyone else was doing. Then she spoke to Dareg at length, as soon as they all stood up.

  After speaking for a while, going back and forth, Dare looked at Baron Pence.

  “Miss Ness is here to see about taking those people away?”

  The decently tall Baron smiled and bowed in her direction, which was returned this time.

  “Ah! Yes, my brother’s concern. He’s the sitting Baron. I’m technically off line now, since he had his son. That’s what younger brothers are for though. Setting aside when the heir reproduces. I’m sure we can find someone to take you over there, Miss. It won’t take but a moment.”

  It took longer than that, but the man’s waved hand signal had a footman out after a few minutes, leading Manly and Ankh away. Niles, seeming at a loss of words for a few moments, finally clasped his hands together.

  “Well. I’d figured that I’d be beaten at the very least. I’m not certain what to do now. We could have a bit to eat or some wine? I should meet your friends, if that’s allowed?”

  Jeffery bowed then, his face attractive without his standard facial makeup being on. The shape was different as well, indicating that his normal look was a disguise. One that the man had held to for three years. At least around Albert. Worse, he wasn’t just pleasant seeming. He was probably one of the better-looking men that Al had ever seen. It was annoying, his friend showing off like that.

  “I’m Willum Baker, Countier Four Lairdgren. This man is Prince Dareg Canton.”

  The titles being used meant more bowing and the other man going rather low, due to how fancy they were. Albert matched him, just in case the man wasn’t involved in what his brother had going on, slavery wise.

  After a moment, he simply asked.

  “Say, Niles… How much do you do with your brother’s operation here?”

  The man sighed and shook his head, looking to the side as he spoke. In shame.

  “Not much. I’m… Not very bright, I’m afraid, so my brother has kept me out of most of the family businesses. I get an allowance, which is enough. It would be nice to be useful, occasionally.” The fellow was totally honest in his words, so Albert didn’t make a face or correct him as to his level of intelligence.

  “You know, I have a friend that could make you smarter, if you wish. Using magic? It takes a few hours, but it doesn’t hurt or anything. I had some work done to make me less prone to feeling sad, just the other day. It’s, well, literally magical. I could put a word in with him, if that’s a pleasant idea?”

  Interestingly, Jeffery smiled at the man. Then he snorted softly.

  “I can do that kind of work for you, if you want? We won’t even have to send for anyone, that way. Though, really, you’re intelligent enough. Average at worst, which is enough for most people.”

  The words got an interested look, then a sigh.

  “That might be good. My brother is brilliant, so I’ve been forced to live in his shadow my entire life. I really can’t compete. I mean, look at his current project… Taking criminals to the new fleet for rehabilitation, so that they won’t be put to death. I’m surprised the king allows it, since it might be seen as them escaping justice but it really is better than hurting all those women and children. I’m not allowed over there, of course. I can hear them calling out, in the night. It must be horribly frightening, until they understand what’s going on.”

  Dare moved toward the man, stopping about three feet from him. The Baron was tall, being well over seven feet. Dareg Canton looked down on him, smiling.

  “Is there a place Willum can work on you? Oh, you also mentioned to Albert here that your son might be interested in the Printer school? We can set up an interview for that, if you wish? Take say, you and he over there for a tour of the place? It really is an excellent establishment.”

  They started walking, into the rather nice, fairly large miniature palace. The only thing that stopped them from entering was the fact that twenty or so armed men were running, and flying, at them. Full speed.

  Willum sighed, and pretended to shake his head.

  “It looks like we aren’t welcome here, for some reason? Why don’t you two go inside, while Dareg and I have a nice chat with these men?”

  Albert froze. Two against twenty, or more, was hardly a fair fight. These were armed men and women, too. At least their hands were held correctly for that kind of thing. Most of them were on foot, not using their shields to propel them. That meant they would the first ones to go down. It was hard to tell who was doing what, but Dare and Jeffery didn’t seem to be hurt at all. They just moved, pointing and waving at the flying men and women, all five of them. Then, one at a time, those people crashed into the ground.

  At least a few of them were going to be dead. The others probably weren’t going to be happy, once they managed to come around. One of them, an older man, groaned, loudly.

  That meant the people running at them slowed down, a lot. Which let the three stragglers at the back of their group catch up. That was a strange tall man, Manly the Errant High Servant and Ankh Ness, the Forten slave buyer.

  In fact, it was the tall man, along with Ankh and High Servant Derret who came forward, as the others held back.

  “Excuse my people here. Brother… I didn’t know you were having friends in. Or… Wait, you did mention some boy from the Capital coming to take your life today? I see that hasn’t happened yet? Good, I suppose. A bit of a shame about my men here. I asked for you to be detained, merely so we could speak. Prince Dareg, isn’t it?” He got a deep bow, though most of the others there didn’t bother with it.

  You didn’t, in the middle of a fight. Even Albert who had nev
er been in more than a scuffle in his entire twenty-five years had that one down. Dareg did it back anyway, his face politely bland.

  “I have a healing amulet that could be used? Some of them are no longer with us, I fear. Albert, could you see to that for us?”

  Having his own amulet made the work simpler. It took some running, but one of the men he thought was dead roused, which was good to see. He was dressed in brown, leather and some kind of heavy canvas, from the look of it. Real material, instead of magic being used to fake it. There was clicking as destroyed bone slid back together, but the bent neck, which was connected to a head that was twisted halfway around unkinked. The man shouted as it took place. He was alive though, and able to move his arms and legs. It was clear that the fellow was in pain, still, but Albert kept holding the amulet to the man’s neck, at the front, since he needed to keep healing.

  The two others that could be healed were already on their feet. The last two were no longer living, unfortunately. Niles actually tensed his face then and looked away.

  “The waste.”

  It was one. Losing any life was, of course. Jeffery moved a bit, correcting his position in case the fighting continued. Then he pretty much assured that it was going to happen, with his words.

  “So, Baron Pence, I couldn’t help but notice that you have slave pens over there? Do you only sell to the Forten, or are you open to making sales to people in other places? Say, a bit closer to home? The Moon or Mars?”

  The Baron, being brilliant in some fashion or another, just shook his head.

  “I’m sorry… What do you mean? We have a rehabilitation effort going on, nothing more. Poor people, accused of crimes they didn’t commit, as well as those who are, perhaps, guilty, but whom might recover their morals, if guided correctly. The Forten have a very good program for such things. Far superior to our own poor habits of simply locking people away or executing them.” He gestured at Ankh Ness, as if her presence was explained by that idea.

  It would have worked on Albert, if it wasn’t for the fact that the man was flat out lying to them. He simply shook his head, which everyone there except for Niles seemed to understand instantly. Then, the man had admitted to not being all that intelligent.

  A thing that wasn’t his fault, or even that big of a problem. He seemed to be a good person, otherwise. Yes, he’d made some mistakes, when he was younger. That didn’t make him evil. Which was good. Albert, as much as it annoyed him, sort of liked the fellow, after all.

  The older brother, not so much. He was sinister seeming, under his veneer of polite words and calm facade. A thing that wasn’t fooling anyone there, with the cries of slaves in the background. Then, all of them, including Albert, knew too much to be fooled by his clever lies. For instance, the Forten would have simply told them about a rehabilitation effort, if it were truly going on, when their people had contacted the leaders there to ask about the issue. It wouldn’t need to be hidden and done by some Baron, either. The King would have seen to it, or possibly…

  Well, given his new occupation, and that people might die or suffer when they didn’t need to, it could even be him, Albert, in charge of such things. At least as of the last day or so. It was probably good thing to look into, if he ever found proper methods to make such a thing work.

  Albert simply nodded at the tall, rather wicked, Baron.

  “Ah? We were told that our services might be needed to transport people from here to there… We have a Jump Ship or two and access to transport pods. Unmarked ones that won’t have to show up in the system, as anything suspicious at all.”

  His words got Jeffery, who was apparently named Will, to laugh a little.

  “That’s actually even true. Dareg here is wanted in Forten space, for murder, but no one would think to look at Albert for things like that. There would need to be some kind of payment of course, for such services. What do you think sounds fair?”

  Albert started to think of a reply, when the older Baron Pence grimaced.

  “I’m supposed to believe that Prince Dareg is going to take to slaving? I doubt the son of the richest man in three worlds will need what bits of magic and technology, or gold, we can provide. As for you gentlemen… I don’t even know who you are. My oversight, I don’t doubt, of course.”

  Niles, rather helpfully, though it was clear he’d caught that they were discussing slavery suddenly, bowed a bit and introduced them.

  “Ah. This is Willum Baker. Countier Four, Lairdgren. This other man is Albert Benoist… You remember when I was a boy and struck that child, crippling him? This is him. I had truly thought that he’d come to take my life, this day. I offered it to him, in payment for the hardship that I’d once caused him. It seems that he’s moved past that, as amazing as it is to see.” The man bowed, going low. After a moment, so did the older brother.

  He still seemed off when he did it.

  “I see. Thank you then, for your forgiveness, sir. Niles is a good man. The sort worthy of such.”

  The man wasn’t easily distracted, for some reason. It was a bit unfortunate, since he was the one with all the armed men and women standing there, ready to fight.

  Doing his best, trying to force the men and women there to look at him, instead of what was coming from behind, Albert moved forward a few steps. Aggressively enough to catch attention. After all, the brown and black craft behind them, of which there were half a dozen, were descending silently. Neither Dare or Jeffery so much as glanced at the largeish vehicles as they moved from space to the Earth below.

  Trying to be entertaining, he clapped his hands.

  “Right… So, Baron Pence… You have to understand that we know all about your operation here. That you’re having people kidnapped, working with the High Servants, Space Fleet members and others, using disasters as a cover for the taking of people. This is your Barony, so we can’t arrest you for it. It would take a war to stop you from exercising your rights.” Al looked at Dare then, suddenly. “That’s right, isn’t it? We can’t simply arrest him here? That would be considered rude, or something like that? Annoying of us, at the very least?”

  The Prince made a considering face.

  “That’s more or less true, actually. We could bring war upon him over this, of course. That would take apportioning out who wanted to be in on the fighting. I imagine there will be some few willing to do it. County Ross, County Thomson and even Lewis here, since they’ve all had people stolen from them. That would take a while to put together, naturally. Weeks, most likely. War isn’t entered into lightly. Or… we could challenge him to a duel. Say, put his brother in power, instead?” The Prince looked at the sitting Baron then, making direct eye contact and sounding very much like he was talking about what kind of pudding he wanted with his supper that night. “You mentioned that he was a good sort? Fit to rule in your stead if you fall this day? That sounds promising, if you have to fall for illegal and evil deeds like this. He was already headed inside to have his intellect improved, so shouldn’t be an objection point, for you. Of course, that’s only if you were to lose such a challenge, which isn’t certain.”

  The other man, Richard, managed to seem truly evil then. He laughed a bit, as if the whole speech was a joke and not something else. Not a plan to make him finally pay for what he’d done to all those people.

  “Oh? Who would be challenging me then? The Prince, with the might of the kingdom behind him, should he be killed? The Countier… Who might well destroy me where I stand with no hope of surviving for even mere moments?” The man shrugged. “The name Willum Baker is known, far and wide. At least in the secret files. Those who try to stand against you, don’t. Worlds have fallen to you, if I have that right. You and the Prince here removed five of my best fighters from play in mere moments. I doubt that I could take a challenge of that sort. Even if it meant humbling myself in the moment, and the shame of a refusal. Only a fool would allow himself to simply die like that.”

  Behind them, in the distance, four of the six craft
were already on the ground. Black clad men moved out, forming lines for battle. In the air, hovering. Silently enough that they nearly didn’t seem real at all. Ready to rush in. In front of them was a smaller shape. A person wearing brown trousers and what, Albert had to assume, was a plain brown shirt.

  Slowly, they moved forward, with two of the four groups of flying people moved to the sides. To free and protect the people being held against their will.

  Albert moved forward again then, clapping again to get everyone to pay attention in his direction, standing straight, which made him only six feet tall. The shortest person there, including the female guards.

  “How about me? I’m not powerful at all. Not a Prince or high Noble. I have no weapons, either. Yet, being humble as I am, the shame of refusing to meet me in such a contest would be… I imagine that it would have to be world ending, don’t you think?” Al locked eyes with the evil baron, trying to act as if he meant any of what he was saying.

  He didn’t, naturally. If the man requested he fight him for real, even in a boxing match, with rules, Albert was planning to flee at his best speed. The trick of the moment didn't require him to be physically brave, thankfully. No, all he had to do was keep the others there looking at him, instead of what was coming behind them. To that end he smirked, trying to seem a bit like an entitled nobleman.

  It was enough to keep the older Baron focused on him. Everyone else too, since the idea was, clearly, absurd.

  Enough so that the sitting ruler there simply scoffed at him.

  “That’s almost funny. Brown robes… I don’t recognize that, or the attractive owl symbol, that adorns your hair and chest. Who are you then? The High Stable Boy? Perhaps the Lord of Restrooms?”

  Albert bowed then, going low, his right arm over his middle.

  “Albert Benoist, Broom Man of The Ancients, thank you very much. I do believe that such an insult is grounds to lay a challenge, isn’t it, Prince Dareg? For real, I mean? I don’t know, do Broom Men get to do things like that, do you think? I’m not certain if my position with the Ancients means that I’m allowed to do that kind of thing.”