by P. S. Power
Before he got ten steps down the hallway Timon called out to him softly, not expecting a real reply.
"You could say please you know, it wouldn't kill you. I know we're family, but I've met you what, five times?"
The man stopped dead and spun in place, a smooth thing that showed he had a smile on his face when he did it, rather than an angry look, which would also have been fair. No one wanted to be called on things like that by a child after all.
"I'm sorry, Timon. Would you please do this for me? I know that it's an imposition, but it really is important. I wouldn't ask otherwise."
He nodded back, his eyes still heavy with sleep. It was going to be a long day.
"Certainly grandfather. The schedule is set to have us leave at seven, but that might change. It was a bit of a late night."
The man winced a little, but didn't apologize for getting him up at the crack of dawn. Instead he waved a little and walked away. It wasn't exactly a smooth exit, but it worked and meant that Timon could... pack his things away.
That took about five minutes, so he headed to the kitchen, to see if Glaren was anywhere around at all. He also had a gold coin in his hand, to pay for the baskets of food he wanted. A light breakfast and then a lunch for the people going on to Austra. He didn't think Morgan would be going for that part of it, since he had a family in Warden, but he decided to get some extra food anyway. Petra probably needed to eat more for a while to build back up, after her hardships.
For a second he felt bad about abandoning her like he had the day before, leaving her alone to dwell on her pain and the horrible things done to her for weeks. Not that he would be any real kind of comfort to her. Still, it was his duty to try, wasn't it? She was some kind of friend to his brother after all. Maria and Collette too it seemed, though he didn't know the relationship there. Asking would be about the same as announcing to the world who she was, if they hadn't picked it up from the greeting "Ushal" had gotten the day before already.
It made sense to get her out of harm's way as soon as possible then, didn't it?
The kitchen woman was already about her duties, as he suspected she might be and was happy enough to do what he wanted, asking him to come back in an hour, which would be six, to pick the things up.
"Unless you need them faster sir?" She spoke the words lightly, not looking at the gold he'd set on the countertop at all.
"No, that's fine. We intend to leave at seven, so unless you have some miracle replacement for sleep in here, I guess I should leave you all to that." He was halfway to the door when a man in white stopped him, a warm cup in his hand.
"Coffee, from the south. Drink it. It will help you wake up. Tastes pretty bad, but the nobles all swear by it." It was just in earthenware, a heavy and large brown mug. It smelled alright, but when he sipped the warm liquid it tasted bitter and unpleasant.
Then medicine normally was. Handy that they'd had some ready to go.
"Thanks. If it works as advertised I'll have to learn to make it myself." Trying not to seem weak he gulped the stuff down, hoping that was the right way to do it, that meant he could hand the mug back a minute later, the man smiling at him.
Then to avoiding a beating with a wooden spoon that Glaren brandished, he made a hasty retreat, smiling the whole time. The woman was a lot more playful than most of the servants were. She reminded him a little of his mother, when she wasn't trying to rip everyone apart at least. The idea made him a little sad, but what Count Lairdgren had said made sense. She always had been harder on Tor than the rest of them, hadn't she? Not that she loved Tim that much at the moment, but they weren't at the kind of odds that they might have been.
At six he went around and started to knock on doors himself, including the Rosses and Farlo, since he could take them back on his way to Ward without losing much time at all, he realized. It would add forty five minutes to an hour for the trip, but hopefully no one would care that much. It would be rude to abandon them in the Capital after all. Unless they wanted to stay.
That turned out to be the case, even though the Count was already up for the day when he came to the door, dressed in a nice suit and cleaned already.
"Thought we'd take the time to visit here in the city, stay on through the Council in a few weeks. We would have started traveling anyway in a few days. Farlo can fly to school from here she said, so that won't be a hardship. Good of you to offer. If we have an emergency, may we call on your services? What you did for Count Ford last night was nothing short of amazing. I can only hope that situation ends well. His last wife died in childbirth. She was too old for it, but that kind of thing is always sad." He went quiet for a moment. "I hear the Princess Abumanitalli is one of the finest doctors in the world however. I do hope it will be enough."
So did Timon. Informed with that information he was able to leave Farlo asleep at least. He pounded on Maria's door until she came to it, her face showing the lines from the pillow still. She scowled at him more than a little, her face pinched.
"Why are you pounding? My head hurts and I've hardly slept at all. Go away." She didn't slam the door in his face at least, so he took the chance to talk, making himself smile.
"Get up. I know it's less than fun, but we leave in an hour. I've arranged for a meal while we fly, so don't worry about that. You can sleep on the flight if you want, but we at least need to load you on. I guess I can get some people to help carry you down, but if you can walk on your own it will look a lot less like a kidnapping, don't you think?"
She narrowed her eyes at him and growled. "You... are most impertinent. I'm a Countess you know. You're supposed to be impressed by my grandeur and simper a little as you beg me to do things I ought to without being asked. Elsewise, what's the point of having power at all?"
Timon blinked. She was kidding, he was almost certain, but her deadpanned look was one of the best he'd ever seen. He shrugged, feeling awake enough to deal with her now, probably thanks to the magic elixir he'd had. Coffee. Maybe he could get some for this grump too?
"The point is, I believe, that you can rest in your own bed tonight instead of taking three weeks to get back. Not even a full day of flying using a rig, if you have one, or finding one of the regular transports to take you, sitting with common people off to visit relatives and look for work. This is filled with grandeur, but we still need to hold to schedules. In case you haven't noticed, I don't simper very well. Do you need me to come in and run a cool shower for you?" He was kidding of course, which made her response slightly strange, because her whole demeanor changed then.
"Oh? I didn't know that the service came with a boy to scrub my back for me too... Tempting. Collette would have my head... I'll be ready, you little slave driver." Then the door slammed.
Not too loud, but hard enough he was fairly certain she was really awake.
Collette was ready and had her own cup of coffee in hand. She didn't look tired at all, but then she was used to late nights and early mornings it seemed.
"I need to check on my manufactory, which is just next door. We make ice." It was said as if he might not know that sort of thing, even though he'd had some from there before. It was a special treat in the hot climate. He'd even made a delivery there a few times. Normally that kind of thing got left to Steward who ran the delivery center for the city, but it was, as she'd mentioned, right next to his brother's place.
The last person he wanted to bother was Petra, not knowing what to expect, but "Ushal" came out carrying a pack, a single strap of which was over her shoulder, her homely face smiling darkly.
"I'll travel with you, little lord, but we'll work when we get a chance. Else how am I supposed to earn my three silvers for the week?" Her voice was rough again, but her spirit seemed better.
"Sounds good. Or at least like what I should be doing. Funny though, but I thought it was a silver per week? You haven't taught me anything yet even. You should do that before you give yourself a raise. We leave at seven. That's the theory anyway. We have food and drink
for the trip. Are you all ready?" It was clear she was, but he didn't want to ask if she needed the restroom or something.
She grunted companionably, which wasn't a thing that he knew people could do, and they went to the kitchen to pick up the baskets. There were three of them, one with nothing but drinks, which included wine, even if it was early in the day for it. Also a large container of coffee and a big mug for each of them. Ushal smiled when she saw it, her face lighting up.
"Fancy, wine and coffee. I never had that kind of service. Must be nice being all royal and all. I could get used to this job. Lazing about till near mid-day like this, eating enough food to make me fat and just showing some little boy how to wave a stick around a few times a day. I must of done something right to earn this." Her words were happy enough that she got a fresh mug of brew to start things going. She downed it happily though.
"Can't afford that kind of thing normally. Coffee is too expensive to give away to the likes of me, most days. Not that I won't take it, if it's offered mind." She winked at him and handed the cup back to Glaren who gestured at the baskets with a smile.
They got set up, the craft going to its largest size, the inside redecorated a little, to look like a nice sitting room, with red carpet and big comfortable chairs that could lie back in case anyone wanted to try sleeping. He really couldn't manage good art for the walls. He still had the painting in the back however, that he'd been given by that Baroness. It was of a girl with blond hair that looked familiar, but who he didn't recognize immediately. It took a minute to figure out how to make it happen, but he was able to cause a shallow shelf to appear on the wall and a small hook at the top, so the picture would stay in place. The gold painted frame worked well with the soft tan leather of the seats.
Amazingly enough everyone actually came out at nearly seven, Dorgal Sorvee riding up in a wagon, driven by a man that was coming to get ice it seemed. He waved to the man as he hopped down, grabbing his own trunk, which looked heavy. Ushal wandered over and took one of the handles, helping him get it on board.
"Thank you miss. I have some samples and things in there, makes for a heavy load." He bowed a bit after they had the case in the back, his eyes going wide when he saw the inside.
"This is... very nice." He sounded impressed enough that Timon felt good about the decorating attempt at least.
Collette walked up as Maria and Morgan came out of the house, the new pilot trying to juggle half a dozen cases and bags at once. Timon ran to help him, since they were coworkers now, which got Dorgal and Ushal to do the same. Maria still looked grumpy and half asleep, but she didn't say anything about the help. Probably because, no matter how poor a job they did of it, they had to have less of a chance of dropping something than poor Morgan did doing it all alone.
Once that was in place they had to wait for Collette to get her own things, which also took help, because apparently it was a sign of status for noble women to have as many cases with them as possible. Timon had his all the way in the back already, but it was down to two, since he'd given away his stock of amulets. Then they were delayed when a very tired looking Ali ran out, waving to them. For a second he thought she'd want to go as well, but her only plan seemed to be handing out hugs.
Dorgal and Ushal didn't get one, but Morgan did. He patted her on the back a little as he spoke, "Thank you so much for having me."
"Thank you for coming to help us find Tor. You're the only one that did. I won't forget who our real friends are." She gave the man a nod and then moved to hug Maria and Collette. She saved him for last, leaning in to whisper, her lips almost on his ear.
"Will you come back?" The words were a little scared sounding, as if he was planning to vanish. That made some sense, given everything. Tor had gone off and vanished, hadn't he?
"Yes. I promise I won't stay that long, but I'm planning to set up near you, if that isn't too close? It will take a week or two for that though, since I need to make a house. I'll be around however, and available to you, of course. You're family, I won't leave you alone."
That seemed to be about the right thing to say, even if it was a bit awkward. It had all the needed parts, a promise not to be in her house for too long and the information that he wasn't running off without letting her know first. They had to wait for Count Lairdgren to come out, which he did about five minutes later, holding several large envelopes. They were equally fat, packages that were as large as books but thinner. The paper on the outside was a rough tan, but had each name written on them, with Brown's sitting on top. The man didn't speak, just bowing politely to everyone else as he handed the things off, then he walked back inside with Alyssa, carefully not touching her.
They were heading to Warden not a minute later, going full speed. The watch said it was seven-twenty, but that was a lot better than he'd expected. Honestly, after the scene at Maria's door he'd wondered if they'd be gone by lunch time. Instead of sleeping however, Morgan passed out coffee to everyone, and then the individual plates of food for each. There was one for Timon too, but it would have to wait for him to not be operating the craft. It looked to be mainly fruit and bread, but no one complained about the lack of hot foods. That was good, because they wouldn't be even warm anymore anyway.
It turned out that Dorgal had known Collette at school, if only in passing. They started talking about world events, which led, somehow, to a discussion of Austran food. It was a thing that out of all of them only Timon had much experience with, and that mainly second hand, having worked with a few people from there on the ship a few months back. Kitchen duty, because he knew how to bake and his brother had forgotten to hire anyone to do the work for them.
"We'll want to take some fresh food with us, I think. They don't do a lot there that isn't... I guess it isn't precisely winter canned, but it's something like that. Carlos, he was one of the spies that we sent back, he worked in the kitchen at the Palace. The King's I mean. He told me that people would pay a lot for fresh foods there, but that they couldn't get them most of the time. They... build their food mainly."
Dorgal cleared his throat then and made a suggestion that sounded sensible on its surface.
"Perhaps you should try carrying in a cargo of fresh foods then, to see if there's truth to that? If nothing else you can eat the food, so it won't be a loss. Or give it away as a gift." It was an offhand comment, but Timon decided to do it, if it wasn't beyond what he could afford. After they dumped off the Countess and the Baronetta, as well as Morgan, they'd be able to reset the whole craft, which would give them about a ten by ten space to carry things in. It wasn't a cargo container as far as shipping went, but it was good enough for the first trip.
The Countess was happy enough to have him settle on the front lawn of her estate, and even called a handful of servants out to help carry in all her bags. For all that she'd grumbled about being woken up so early, she seemed fairly happy at the moment, especially when a giant dark skinned man came out. He was a nice tan color and was followed by an older lady that had to be as noble as anyone, being well over seven foot tall. The man was even bigger, but younger. A youthful looking forty at a guess. Not that it mattered.
"Love! We didn't expect you home for weeks, if then. How did you do it? You contacted me from the Capital not two days ago." The man rushed her and actually picked her up bodily into a hug, holding her for quite a while. "Is there news?"
The last bit was nearly whispered, even though the rest of them could still hear it.
The blonde Countess kissed the man on the mouth, a little more ardently than was actually proper in public, even for a married couple, and patted his shoulder until he set her down.
"Some. We should repair inside. Perhaps we could get Countier Baker and Merchant Sorvee here something cool to drink. Weapons Master Ushal too?" Her voice was a little sly, but the man just nodded and glanced at them all. If his eyes lingered anywhere it was on Timon though and that only because the Fast Craft was resting behind him.
"Yes, let's do that and ge
t them out of this heat. Mother, will you join us? It's not every day we have such esteemed company, especially of late." He made a face but bowed a little toward them, which reminded Timon that normal people bowed when meeting important people like Counts.
Oops.
He did it quickly then, making sure he went decently deep, but not so much Dorgal couldn't do slightly better. Ushal did it too, but her bow wasn't quite as good as the others, not really being deep enough. It would be enough to get attention, but not so much that anyone would call her on it. Basically she was claiming that her social position was just a bit better than his own. That might be true, in her real life, but Ushal was his employee, not the other way around. They'd have to have a talk about that later.
They were all shown to a very nice sitting room, with Collette showing Dorgal to a side space so they could discuss some business opportunities. That might even have been real enough, since Collette, for all her youth and prettiness, was a successful business person in her own right already.
It could also have to do with them being left alone for some reason.
That, it turned out, was the point after all, the Count descending on the weapons master as if he could have picked her out of a crowd with one eye blind from the sun.
"Pet! Thank all the gods. Are you well? I heard some... evil things." He went so still it was almost impressive, since he was holding a woman that had to weigh over twice what Timon did, seemingly without effort, her feet off the floor.