by P. S. Power
"Have them set rates for barter. Ten raw goods for ten services or whatever they decide on. Then we can work out the rest. Harder to tax that way, but we can just give ten percent of it to the government when we come in with a lot of goods." It wasn't a perfect system, but it would be good enough. Having a route to Austra was mainly a goodwill gesture anyway. He really doubted that anyone would use it that much.
"For now people with good reasons for travel can just get with us and we'll work out something or other." It sounded fair enough to him, but the people watching kept looking at him as if he were insane. It was bad enough that he finally shrugged and tried to explain.
"Denno Brown is my Uncle. This is his land. You're his people, so of course we'll work this out."
Dorgal and "Ushal" nodded, since it was about family, even if there was no rule saying Timon had to give away anything like that. Brown smiled and tried to look happy about it, and everyone else followed his lead, and made sure they got their free banana. Which got Denno to chuckle a little when he realized what was going on.
"Ah, that would do it then. Those would probably run about a silver apiece here, if we could count things that way. Just to give you some perspective. It's rare to see this much fresh fruit anymore. Maybe you should follow us back to my home? We can go out to dinner to give you perspective. There's a place I'd like your opinion on."
The words might as well have been in a different language, but Tim got that he needed to reload his craft and not fly, making a point to mark where the lights were on the other vehicles he matched them and caused the glow to dim to almost nothing, so that it wouldn't leave anyone blind while they controlled their own vehicles. The front lights were a little dim, but there were lights on poles to help them see, which was useful. Denno's driver went slow, because people kept stepping out into the road to watch them, sometimes moving all the way in front of the vehicles. The trick there seemed to be to keep going, forcing them to jump out of the way at the last second. It wasn't very nice, but no one let themselves be hit.
He did stop once, when a small girl got in the way. She must have been about six or so and had on a pink one piece, her hair a brilliant blue and green. She just wasn't going to make it if he didn't stop, which was, as Ushal pointed out, a horrible idea, since she could have been sent to cause them to do just that.
The girl rallied thankfully and was tugged out of the way by a boy that looked a little older, who raised hand to wave at them. Timon did the same in return and continued forward, making a point to be extra careful from then on.
The low wheeled craft in front of them took about fifteen minutes to reach a large compound with a fake rock wall, that reminded Tim a little of the one at Rosslyn. It was a light color, but had a slightly shiny look to it and was only about ten feet high. The gate in the front looked to be made of black iron, and moved out of the way without anyone doing the work. His mind tried to explain it away as magic, since that's what it would have been at home. That wasn't the rule here however. It was a complicated machine doing it instead. It made him shake his head in wonder as he floated past, trying not to stare, since that might be considered rude.
They let him place the craft in front of the dwelling, which was nice, after a fashion, though not as artistically pleasant as most of the places owned by the very wealthy in Noram. There was a lot of technology around, true, which was nearly the same as magic as far as what it did, so in that way it was a fine place. It just needed a little dressing up. Or not. Denno might have been making a statement, not living a better life than those around him on purpose. It was hard to tell yet.
The Ancient got out, the guards moving away from him this time and checking everything around them carefully. When they gave the all clear Denno moved over to them and gave a too pretty smile to each of them, finally finding his eyes and shrugging.
"My protectors are worried that the Larval might try to attack me, since I'm openly working to stop them from killing Tor. I told them that I'm safe, that we all are, but no one can really trust that yet."
Timon nodded at the words but didn't say anything until they got inside the place, which was done in a hundred different shades of brown, but had remarkably little actual wood anywhere for all that.
"Any luck with that? Trying to shut down the Larval?"
The Ancient of Austra nodded once then smiled as the door shut.
"Oh yes. A lot of luck."
Chapter six
After those words, frustratingly, the Ancient refused to tell him anything more about it at all. Timon crossed his arms and stared at the man for a few moments, but that didn't work at all and most likely never would. For some reason the Ancient didn't think that Tim needed to know about what he'd managed to do at all, and instead of sharing, had them all quickly shown to rooms so they could clean themselves up for a meal out. That was something that Timon had only done a few times, and those were mainly low class places with questionable food, because he'd been caught out overnight on a delivery.
Even that was only a couple of times, so the idea was kind of exciting. He'd never even met anyone that had eaten a dinner in Austra before... Except that, of course, he probably had. Brown most likely did it fairly often even, if it was a thing to take guests to, and all the spies that he'd been on the ship with had come from here, so it wasn't impossible at all. Brown wanted them to ride in Austra "cars", but his didn't have enough room and couldn't grow at all. Timon's could, but had a bunch of stuff in the back. The simple answer, that Denno wanted to use, was to leave the guards behind.
That didn't go over well at all.
"No sir, we will not stay behind. We have one of the worst threats to your life and health in the last three hundred years out there, and it doesn't matter if you think it's real or not. We do. Now get in the car and don't make me embarrass you in front of your friends." The woman that spoke was hard looking, like a Royal Guard, but only about five-ten, so only a tiny bit larger than Brown was.
He took the abuse with good humor and chuckled a bit, then suggested that Timon could follow them again.
"The place isn't far after all, about ten minutes from here, if we don't hit traffic." They were led inside however, planning to meet in fifteen minutes in the front room. There was a bit of surprise then, because, while he dressed in a rather plain black and silver metal look and Dorgal was in a rather powerful dark red velvet shirt with black pants and boots, Petra came down dressed like a cloud, her hair twisted up. She was very lovely looking, but she wasn't Ushal.
The security pointed weapons at her, but Brown put a single hand up and moved to her, eyes locked on her face.
"Just a bit of make-up everyone. I take it that you're not a weapons master then?" The man took her hand and bowed low over it, but didn't kiss it.
"Oh, no, I am a weapons master. Just not the one I was pretending to be. Conserina Petra Ward. King Richard sent me, to hide from a threat in Noram and to assist you in any way that you need. It was Timon's idea that I hide who I was. We're thinking that being here is unexpected enough that no one at home will catch on in the next few weeks or months." She bowed back a bit and then glanced at Dorgal, who's face went curiously blank.
Brown was smooth as he looked at them all, as if expecting more disguises to come down, but nothing of the sort happened.
"Well, this is a pleasant surprise. I was just thinking that I'd have to send someone to communicate with the man, and here he already sent me an aide. Now I just need to contact Green and I'll be set. We have a method, but he's technically not allowed to use it under the treaty, so we need to be careful."
Tim nodded and moved forward slowly, trying not to start a fire fight that might get other people killed. He'd be fine, behind his shield, but the others not so much.
"I have a packet for you, from him. I'll get it to you after dinner? I left it in my room, if you want it now?"
The Ancient shook his head, and gestured toward the front door, which was painted brown on this side. That was hard
ly some kind of big surprise, given who he was.
"That should be fine, may I send a return missive with you?" He flowed toward the door, his walk was so controlled and smooth. It was almost as if he wasn't moving at all, which made the inside of Timon's head itch.
It made sense, that level of smoothness and efficiency. Without being obvious he tried to copy it, letting his weight sink back and not taking too large of a step each time, toes going just so slightly outward. The hands swinging, but just enough to really balance the motion, not just flopping around as most people did. He felt his mind shift, going on alert suddenly, as if there was a threat and he needed to be ready to respond to it. There wasn't one, at least not that he could see. After a moment he understood, Denno, for all his words, was scared. It was Ancient "I've seen it all, you bore me now" frightened, true, not the panic someone like him would have felt. Timon figured that meant that the Larval really were a big deal, even here. No matter what the man had said.
For a few seconds he wondered if they'd be better off just leaving. Timon wasn't able to fight off an army of assassins and didn't really want to try. Leaving Petra here...
Still made sense.
It wasn't something that Timon liked, but the fact was that the level of security here was very high and that meant no one was going to get to the Conserina easily. If they did, well, he'd leave her with a shield. Denno too. That should give them a chance to run if nothing else.
The drive was relaxed and slow again, never going over a fast run. No one darted into the street, or stood around to record their images, which probably had more to do with the gently falling rain than people being bored with them already. That was good, since he didn't want Petra to be too well known yet. It wasn't rational, since she wouldn't be seen back in Noram anyway, but it just didn't matter. It was, like it or not, his job to see to her safety.
Even if she'd probably laugh at him if he said that out loud.
They pulled into a lot that was crowded with other "cars", each in a slot drawn on the ground, which was all hard stone, laid out in a single piece, but rough, not smooth like focus stone would be. Timon picked a slot and realized that his craft had to take two of them, which didn't seem fair. They couldn't change that however, with all the produce in the back. At least the night was cool out, which would help it all keep.
They climbed out, and Dorgal made certain to turn and help Petra, just to be polite, her white gown being kind of big and in the way. Her slippers were an off pink as was the silk ribbon that wrapped her middle several times.
There was a very large sign over the building that glowed red, and proclaimed the establishment as "The Royal Table".
Denno led to the front door, his guards scrambling to get inside before him, as he held it open for Petra. Timon took over, letting the rest of them in, except one guard that darted through with him. A smaller woman that had a slightly blank look to her eyes.
Then there was a second door, which led into a room that looked similar to the hallway outside the Palace's large dining room. The one he'd been in the night before. There was a line too, where men and women in jumpsuits and a few in dresses or jackets, waited to be announced. The man doing the job was familiar enough, since he was from Noram. He'd been on the ship with the spies, but Tim thought he was actually just married to one of them, not one himself. As each couple or single person entered, he leaned in to find out their name. Denno took Petra's arm and strode forward when it was their turn, and whispered to the man who smiled up at her and bowed.
"Ancient Denorian Brown of Austra, and his companion, Conserina Petra Ward, Captain of the Royal Palm!" It got a reaction from the room inside, which was first a bunch of people going goggle eyed, and then pounding and whistling.
The guards all just pushed past the man, not caring to be announced and Timon almost made it past with them himself when the man on the door put a hand out.
"Name?" He blinked and then after a few seconds bowed to him too. "Sorry sir..."
"Countier seven Lairdgren, Timon Baker."
The man called this out just as loudly, which got another round of excitement, if not as loud as what Denno had gotten. That was possibly for Petra however, since she really did look fabulous. Between the two of them they were probably close to the best looking couple on the planet at the moment.
He was followed by "Merchant Prince Dorgal Sorvee" since apparently you could make up any title you wanted here. They were followed by a Baron and his family as well as two Dukes, and a Knight. The rest of the people just gave names and were put in at roughly the correct place along the table based on what they said. His title had him sitting below Dorgal, but only just. Denno was placed at the head of the table, along with his "date" Petra, since they were kind of playing the part of house holder.
Or King. It was clear that Brown was a lot closer to being that for his land than Green was for Noram, however that one had worked out. It probably had to do with how easy it was for people here to see pictures of people over time. He was in front of them all the time, so they all kind of knew him. In Noram that didn't happen. The King had his face on coins and they'd been shown pictures in school, but those were wood prints and didn't really look that much like anyone at all.
On Timon's other side was a girl that looked about fifteen, who smiled at him and looked at his clothes, shaking her head.
"You really did a good job with your outfit. I tried, but it didn't really work too well, so I ended up in this." She looked down at her simple shirt and blue pants combination. Kind of like a tunic."It isn't like the pictures is it?"
"It looks very nice though. No one would think you out of place in most places and certainly no one in Noram would comment on it. Not to your face at least. Nobles can be a bit back biting at times. The important thing is to make sure they know that whatever you're doing, it's on purpose and has deep meaning. Even if it doesn't." He assured her, which got a head tilt that made the piercings along her right cheek jingle together.
They spent a few minutes talking, while everyone else was being seated, until a very familiar gentleman in green came out and stood to the right of Denno, his voice clear and firm. The room itself was large and... that was about all it really had in common with the King's actual dining hall. The furniture wasn't real wood, fabric or metal, the floor wasn't polished stone or wood even, being some kind of red brick, that looked nice enough, but not perfect.
The man was exactly correct though. One of the people from the ship that had been returned. The spies.
"For nearly twenty years I served in the Royal Palace of Noram, the last decade of which was spent in personal attendance on Queen Constance herself, as her butler. Though a spy, I found many of the people I met to be good, honest and charming. Some less so. Tonight we will endeavor to replicate, to the best of our humble ability, a meal as would be experienced by a noble of Noram, if they dined in the Palace. First, let me assure you, no effort of ours could allow us to replicate the true splendor in which they live. Imagine if you will a hall with gleaming walls, encrusted with precious jewels or gold, floors of polished stone, cracked from a single battle of an enraged Count, a giant standing over nine foot tall, who was accused of impregnating a Conserina.
"Set your mind to an incredible vision of clothing that few here could replicate, and most of all, human beings so large that you have to crane your necks to look at the underside of their chins!" That got a polite chuckle, and a few claps from Timon, since he could sympathize on that score. He'd looked up more noses in the last week than he'd ever imagined possible.
Then the man, Quavel, explained how they were to check for poison, starting with the head of the table taking a single sip or bite, then each person doing so in turn, at the beginning of each course. They were brought wine first, but one that was mostly made up of fruit juice and sugar, Tim was fairly certain, from the scent coming off of it. When he got his he pulled out his poison detector and used it by sheer habit, since Tor had insisted he do so and gotten
everyone in Two Bends doing it, even though no one ever tried to kill anyone there.
It didn't light, so after everyone started trying to get the timing right, and failing, he took a sip. It was... good would have been too generous. It wasn't awful and was certainly sweet enough. That about covered the rest of the food that came too. It was skillfully made, nothing was overcooked or raw, the spices tasted close, but weren't exactly right, but everything was just a little off.
At the end of the meal they were served strawberries with beaten cream. Timon couldn't finish it. The berries were something else, indistinct lumps that seemed to be made of bits of dough, rather than actual berries at all, and if there was cream in his dish, something very bad had happened to it. The people around him ate it all and seemed genuinely pleased by the effort.
As the nearly hundred people that had dined with them left, the girl that he'd been sitting with held out her hand.
"It was nice meeting you. Do you think you'll be here again? I'm planning to come back next week, maybe we could come together? Pretend to be the Prince or Princess, something like that? I'm Kincaid by the way. Kincaid Rue. You seem wonderfully up on what Noram is like. Can I get your compact number?" That got him to turn his head a little and stare at the girl, smiling. "If you want I mean, I don't mean to be pushy..."
He shook his head but spoke before her face could fall.
"I'd love to come with you, and we can arrange that, I think, but I don't know what a compact is... Wait, the black things that you use here? I thought those just took images of people?" He was serious but Kincaid laughed.
"I love your accent, it's a little different than The Tor's but it's really pretty close. How did you learn it?" Her hand touched his arm lightly, but fell away as if it were an invasion, that or his temperature control had startled her.
A male voice came from behind them, a boy that had short light colored hair and an outfit that looked right for the scene, a heavy green outfit.