by Ren Garcia
26 The HRN
“Where in the name of Creation have you been?” Captain Stenstrom yelled through the Com. “Your mother is ready to die of worry.” He was sitting in his large office on the Caroline and he looked positively livid. “This is very irresponsible of you, Bel!”
“I’m sorry, Father, I’m simply doing what Mother has told me to do—to be my own man. If she wouldn’t continually harass me with Black Maidens and Soul Devourers, maybe I’d be in touch more often.”
Captain Stenstrom squinted and tried to look past his face at his surroundings through the screen. “Are you in a brig somewhere—and is that a mask you’re wearing?”
“This is my office, it’s not much, but it’s mine, and I am wearing a mask to keep mother’s demons from tearing my soul apart.”
“Your mother has done no such thing. Your mother loves you.” Captain Stenstrom’s interest seemed to peak, his anger diminished. “So, where are you? Are you on a ship? You can tell me.”
“I am on a frigate.”
“A … frigate?” he said with some distaste.
“Yes. It’s a fine frigate, and I am its Paymaster.”
“A Paymaster? You’re the Paymaster of a frigate?”
“That is correct. Mother never thought of knifing a shipboard civilian out of me. I always wanted to join the Fleet, to soar the stars. I suppose this is as close as I am able to get.”
“You never showed any interest in joining the Fleet.”
“I always wanted to join the Fleet, Father—Lyra too. I wore the clothes you sent home to me, and I played with the toys you bought for us. Mother wouldn’t have it. So, here I am, a Fleet Paymaster on a frigate. It’s not much, and it’s not how I expected it to be, but I am living my dream.”
Captain Stenstrom, despite himself, beamed, smiling from ear to ear. “Well, what do you know? You are something, my son—you’ve got some wit. What ship are you on? Maybe I can swing by if I’m close. I’m very proud. Very proud indeed.”
“I’m on the Sandwich. Again, it’s not much, but it’s home. The places I’ve been to, the things I’ve seen—remarkable.”
The captain noted the name down. “Is there anything you need? Just say the word, and I’ll get you whatever you require.”
“I’m fine, Father, I think.”
“Well, I must admit, this is a great surprise. The Sandwich, and my son is its Paymaster. Still, as to my previous point, when you’re close, I do bade you come home and visit your mother. She …”
“She what?”
“Nothing. She would love to see you, is all. And your sisters too. You will be happy to learn that Virginia is betrothed.”
“That’s wonderful. To whom?”
“Lord Cobbleshem of Pole. She’s very excited, and, as usual, your mother is home fussing over the details.”
“How about Lyra?”
“She’s actually planning on going to school. She managed to talk your mother into letting her go—can you believe that?”
Stenstrom was nearly open-mouthed with shock. “That’s … amazing. What school, what is she studying?”
“University of Arden—she’s studying stellar cartography. Your mother is mellowing, and I cannot believe she would conjure up demons to harass you. Come home, Bel. Tell her what you’ve become, and she will be as proud of you as I am.”
* * * * *
The Sandwich made berth in Mercia several days later to load up on supplies. Stenstrom and Kaly disembarked. He’d promised to take her out on the town.
As they walked down the gangplank, his felt his Holystone go off. He stopped and scanned the area. “What?” Kaly asked.
“Something’s about …” He cleared his coat and put his hand on his NTH.”
Kaly looked around. “Demons?”
“Possibly.”
He looked around and didn’t see the usual black robed figures sniffing about. Instead, he saw a familiar shape standing on the dock.
He smiled. “Hey, Kaly, I’m going to have to take a rain-check. I promise I’ll take you out tomorrow, okay?”
“What, what is it?” she asked. “Who are you ditching me for?”
“I see a friend down there. I promise I’ll get you tomorrow.”
“All right—tomorrow then. I wish you carried a Holo-mon so I can get a hold of you. Watch out for demons, okay?” Kaly gave him a wink and trotted down the gangplank and disappeared into the streets.
Stenstrom slowly walked down to the dock. A familiar person stood there waiting for him. “Hello, Lilly,” he said.
“Hello, Bel,” she replied, spinning her usual parasol. “I heard you would be in town here in Mercia, and I wanted to see you.”
He took her hand and kissed it. “It’s been quite a while, Lilly. Where have you been?”
“Here and there. Come on, Bel—take my hand and let’s enjoy the afternoon.”
Together, they strolled into the city.
* * * * *
“I tell you, Lilly, it was wondrous, wearing Dunk’s coat. I know, I know, it’s just a coat, but it felt so good wearing it. I felt safe; I felt whole. I felt like I was a part of something.”
They were sitting at a café on the water’s edge. His Holystone was rumbling constantly, but he saw no demons and felt no particular danger. He could feel his NTHs at his side with fresh cinnabar strikers just in case he needed them—that was a comfort at least.
Lilly finished her lunch. “You young lords and your love of uniforms and pageantry.” She gazed at him hard. “You look good in a mask. You have a face for it.”
He closed his eyes. “The things I have to do to overcome my mother’s efforts. I can’t take it off, or else I feel my soul ripping apart. Even ashore I feel it—I’m not safe anywhere I go. Kaly suggested branding the hermelins within into my forehead, but I really didn’t want to do that.”
“And who is Kaly?”
“She’s a friend.”
“I see.” Lilly appeared to flush for a moment. “So, you enjoyed wearing a Fleet coat,” she said, reverting to the previous subject.
“I did.”
“And you enjoyed it because it made you feel like you were a part of something? You reveled in the comfort of wearing a uniform?”
“I suppose.”
“Well, perhaps you might wear something similar—something that looks like a Fleet ensemble, but actually isn’t. There’s nothing to stop you from doing that, is there?”
Stenstrom finished his lunch. “No, but …”
“No buts,” Lilly said dabbing her lips with her napkin. “Come with me. Let’s go shopping.”
“Shopping for what?”
“For your uniform, Bel.”
Together, they plunged into the lovely city and prowled the many shops lining the streets. Lilly looked him over with a discriminating eye, not unlike his mother’s. “I think you shall need a white shirt, a pair of black pants—knee britches if you must, and a new sash. Do you have any particular color in mind?”
“Green is the designated color of a Fleet Paymaster.”
“All right, we’ll get you a lovely green sash.”
The pants and shirts were easy enough. His pants were simply black cotton pantaloons that they bought at a nice tailor shop along with several white shirts. Lilly insisted on a frilly shirt, though Stenstrom resisted at first. She also tried to get him to buy a different pair of boots, but he refused, having a love of his old Tyrol boots.
They moved on to a fine haberdashery. They looked at the assortment of men’s hats, concentrating on Vith triangle hats, as they most resembled those worn in the Fleet. Lilly picked him out a large black one, inlaid with silver swirls.
Now, for his coat. That was the hard part. They looked all over, trying to find a coat that was similar to the long, tailed coat worn in the Fleet, but wasn’t overly garish or mocking. That was a tall order. All of the tailors they went to had nothing like what he wanted. Too overblown. Too simple. Too dainty. Too modest. Too costume-like. Mo
st of the coats they found that were cut in the Fleet style were for going to the opera, or a night at a ball.
Lilly finally had the answer. She pulled him down a side-street, the fine shops fading to run-down, rusted facilities and steamy, workman-like warehouses. Stenstrom looked around dubiously—what could they possibly find here?
At the end of the street was a large warehouse selling used and damaged goods at a discount to those encumbered with a more meager budget.
“Let’s look in there,” Lilly said, pulling on him.
Stenstrom didn’t want to go in. “What could they possibly have in there, Lilly? It’s a thrift store offering nothing but used sundries.”
“Oh, come now, what could it hurt? We’ve had no success at the more prestigious establishments. Sometimes one can find lost or hidden treasures in second-hand stores.”
Stenstrom stopped. “I really don’t want to, Lilly.”
“Please,” she cooed, “for me …”
He sighed and took her hand. Together they went in. The warehouse was vast, offering boxed and unboxed articles of clothing, shoes, stockings, undergarments, old pieces of furniture, and the like. None of it was displayed with any regard for presentation or aesthetics; everything was laid out no-frills and functional, nothing more.
They rolled around in the vast aisles, sorting through this and that. The other shoppers in the warehouse were dressed rather poorly, and gave the richly attired Stenstrom and Lilly reproachful looks: what did they need in an establishment like this?
Stenstrom half-heartedly looked at the used wares on display. “Shockingly, I’m not seeing anything I like.”
“I don’t think you’re trying.”
“May we go?”
Lilly pointed to a corner of the warehouse they hadn’t checked yet. “Let’s look over there, first. Then we can leave.”
They walked to the far side of the warehouse. The items on display there were a bit more expensive than the goods laid out elsewhere and got little attention from the usual shoppers. The boxes laid out on the tables all were stamped: HOBAN. Stenstrom looked into the boxes—Hoban turned out some fine items, and he was mildly impressed by what he saw.
“Bel,” Lilly said from behind. “What about this?” He turned around.
Lilly was holding up a long, dark green coat—it was so long it dragged on the floor in front of her. Stenstrom took it from her and held it up. It was a fairly heavy coat made of terlamane, a fine fabric made from the hair of a livestock animal native to Hoban—the finished product mixing the feel of silk with the toughness of wool. The entire surface of the coat was embroidered with twisting ivy, highlighted in silver thread, mixing in lightning bolts and some sort of fruit-like objects. The stiff black collar and cuffs were heavily embroidered in silver and gold. It had silver buttons and silver clips. Centered on both sides of the collar, riveted in place, were the letters “HRN” in gothic, flawless silver.
He stood there holding the coat—it was the loveliest thing he’d ever seen.
“What do you think, Bel—I think it’s a wonderful coat.”
He continued to gaze at it.
“Try it on, see how it feels.”
Stenstrom put the coat on, and it fit almost perfectly. The sleeves were just the right length and the tails were just an inch or two from dragging on the floor. It was almost like it was made just for him.
The terlamane fabric breathed well, so the coat wasn’t too hot or too cold on him, and it had numerous pockets sewn into the interior—perfect places to put his Holystones, MARZABLE, his Astral Plane detectors, and other bits of arcane equipment. He imagined a coat like this could serve as a mobile office, housing everything he needed.
“Oh, yes, Bel—this looks wonderful on you—look how handsome. How does it feel?”
“Feels nice.”
Lilly backed up a few steps. “Yes, it’s elegant and Fleet-worthy, yet not too-overdone as to appear like a costume. From a step or two away, you almost look like an Admiral.”
He was sold. He checked around and didn’t see any other coats like this HRN one, and bought it as is.
As they left the warehouse, wearing his HRN coat, he felt like a new man. He felt like he was bursting with power.
It was getting late and the Sandwich was soon to blast off. Stenstrom and Lilly made their way back to the docks. As they did, Lilly’s demeanor seemed to change a little. She looked lost, desperate even. Worse, she looked positively sad. He asked her what was wrong.
“Nothing, I suppose it’s getting late and my job is done … for the day. I’m glad we found clothes to your liking.”
They arrived at the docks, and Stenstrom gave her a kiss on the hand, as there were many people about.
Lilly’s usual cool demeanor completely fell away. She wept bitterly, her mouth pulled back in anguish.
“Lilly, Lilly, what’s wrong?”
She looked at him with her tear-streaked face. “I love you, Bel,” she said putting her arms around him. “I love you so much. Don’t ever let anyone tell you I don’t love you. Don’t let anyone tell you what I feel isn’t genuine.”
“I love you too, Lilly. I’ve been around, I’ve experienced life, and I’ve not met your equal. I want you, Lilly. I want to make you my countess, the first of the Belmont-South Tyrol line. I want it now more than ever. I’ve learned a lot in these two years, I’ve learned there is no other but you.”
She managed a smile. She put her hands on his face. “Then, I’ve plans to make. I’ve steps to put into place. I don’t know when you’ll see me again, Bel, but I promise you will. As I have tried to impress upon you—there’s always a way around a challenge if you want something badly enough.”
“Lilly, your tone has a certain air of finality. It is frightening me.”
She dried her tears and smiled. “Don’t be scared, Bel. There’s nothing to be scared of.”
They kissed one last time and, slowly, Stenstrom mounted the gangplank and walked into the ship.
He turned as the door closed, expecting Lilly to be gone—Wafted away like she normally did, but, she was still standing there on the dock, her hands to her face, her parasol lying on the planks.
* * * * *
Blasting off from Mercia was terribly emotional. Lilly was still standing there, crying as the ship lifted away. Hands on the boat deck glass, he watched Lilly’s weeping form quickly fade into a speck and then gone.
He felt such a tide of loss.
Returning to his quarters, he fretted for awhile. Lilly was strange and rather odd toward the end of the day. He thought for a moment that she was going to break it off and cut ties with him for good. He was sure of it, but something had prevented her at the last moment.
He’d parted ways with Lilly many times, but this seemed different. It seemed like the end. He got her locket out and opened it, seeing her smiling, hand-painted face.
There was a knock at his door. “Come in.”
The door creaked open and there was Kaly, carrying a few bags from her day in the city. “Hey, Bel, did you have fun today? I almost didn’t make it back aboard. I had to run.”
He didn’t say anything. He stood, grabbed her, and kissed her hard. He spun her around, her bags went flying, and he threw her on the bed, her legs going up in the air as he closed the door.
“Ohhh,” she said in a sultry voice as she popped off her shoes and began unbuttoning her pants, “okay, okay…that’s how you want it. Come and take it …”
He was sick of feeling out of control. His whole life—his mother, Lilly, Lady Miranda, even Alitrix, at every turn there was a woman in his way, tripping him up, confusing him, making him hurt. Plunging knives into his chest.
Tonight, just for one night, he was going to take out all his frustrations on a woman, and Kaly, ever eager to try new things, appeared to be more than willing to play along. With the locket open, Lilly watching, he tore into Kaly.
* * * * *
They sat at breakfast the next morning. S
tenstrom was wearing his new stuff. “I’m really sorry about last night.”
“Why?” Kaly said, smiling. “I thought it was fun—not a side I see of you often, though, we might have to sit out tonight—I’m a little sore, you know?”
He gave a short laugh and continued eating his breakfast.
“I like your new clothes,” she said looking at him.
“I went shopping with Lilly. She was waiting for me on the docks as we departed the ship.”
“I didn’t see anybody on the docks with you yesterday.”
“How do you mean?”
“I didn’t see anybody. I looked around. I thought I saw you walking off with a mannequin or something, and I was thinking ‘Hey, if he’s going off to have fun with a sex mannequin or something, I want to join in’, but I couldn’t holo-mon you.”
Stenstrom laughed. “That wasn’t a mannequin; that was Lilly.”
“If you say so.” Kaly looked at his clothes. “You look like an Admiral, or something close to it. I’ve only seen a couple of Admirals—they make me sort of nervous.”
“Yes, I found this coat in a second-hand store of all places. Can you believe that—a beautiful coat like this. I wonder what HRN stands for.”
“Hoban Royal Navy, that’s easy.”
Stenstrom was surprised. “HRN? The Hoban Royal Navy? You know it?”
“Yeah—I might be stuck on this old tub, but I’m still a crewman in the Fleet. Everybody joining the Fleet has to pass a Fleet history course right off the bat, and there was a whole chapter on the Hoban Royal Navy. The Fleet hated the Hoban Royal Navy.”
Stenstrom was curious. “Tell me.”
“I think they were a bunch of guys from Hoban, obviously—sort of like you, rich, highly placed. They tried to replace the Fleet around Hoban a few years back—said they could do a better job of protecting Hoban from the Xaphans than the Fleet could. According to the course, they were actually there to protect the Governor of Hoban, as he was an incognito pirate running contraband to the Xaphans and raiding passing ships. I guess they didn’t last long. I think they lost the only battle they ever got into with the Xaphans and had to have the Fleet come and rescue them. A lot of them got killed, and some were thrown in jail for gross incompetence. But they wore coats just like that. I’m really not surprised you found that coat in a second-hand store as they’re all washed up and outlawed now. Seeing it up-close, it is a really neat-looking coat.”