by P. S. Power
"That's true. I have to say, I'm going to look pretty good, coming in with the three of you. People might even think I'm important or something."
They all chuckled over that, but Timon managed to get them moving, after pointing out that he had a few more things to do that day, Like sell things to embattled counts and pass out some treats on the combat line. Or at least in the camp. He wasn't actually going to go to the line. That would be stupid.
"Remember to leave me those shields Sam. Otherwise I have no reason to go to Breen at all and I already paid for the baked goods."
A big bag was left next to his seat then, passed up from the back as they all talked about the new school term. They seemed happy about it and like they wanted to be there. It left him feeling a little envious. He should have been doing it too. That he didn't have the funds today was a problem, even if he might tomorrow or the next day. It was time for him to stop worrying over it. He had too many commitments for now to do it anyway. If he was standing next to Countess Printer with his school fees in hand he couldn't make it all work, he didn't think. Not yet. He needed more pilots and to have them all trained. Maybe a person to do the scheduling and books.
It was going to take a while.
It made him feel better, realizing that. Less like he was just trying to dodge out on school for a year and more like he had responsibilities instead. He was smiling fifteen minutes later when he slowly settled over the courtyard at Lairdgren. People did look at them, even standing to wait and see who was going to climb out. He got out himself, his clothing black velvet again, and helped to move Tiera's cases for her. For all that she was Tor's sister, he'd never seen fit to give her floating luggage that would follow her. Not even the old kind that worked on a real chest, much less the new ones that appeared from nothing.
Then he had to stay with them while the others took her to find the registrar, so that she could get her room assignment. It actually took a long while, so he just waited and enjoyed the decently cool air and watched the eager students pass by. Some of them stared, and a few openly gawked, but no one approached him until an old man in black and green velvet did. His most striking feature was his large gray beard, which was perfectly flat on the bottom. He looked at the craft for a second and then touched the side lightly.
"These always amaze me. Across the Kingdom in mere hours. Do you know that no one has managed to even make a copy of one yet? We've had our top instructors and the Lairdgren group on it and all they come up with is a regular flying carriage." He turned and stuck out his right hand, which had calluses on it that didn't belong on the hand of an instructor, unless he was a combat lessons person. The rest of him didn't seem that way at all. He was a little stooped and had a friendly way about him, smiling the whole time, as if he couldn't be kinder.
"Dean Hardgrove. Kyle. Sorry, I should do the introductions first. Horrible habit." He looked back at the craft, his voice going soft and his lips barely moving. "I need passage to the Capital, specifically to the palace, this night. I must be back before first light. Can that be arranged? I can't afford to pay you the going rate. Not at all. It's very urgent however." The emphasis on the single word got Tim to pay attention.
It wasn't a good idea to take strangers to the palace without permission however. It made the Royal Guard uneasy if nothing else. He didn't know what to say, so he decided to make use of the device they'd given him earlier, which meant sealing himself in the craft.
"Pardon me for a moment please sir? Or, well, it may be longer than that. I will be back however."
Then, a little rudely, he hopped in and shut the thing tight, the little device was very interesting and had nearly sixty different names on it as well as some random signs on the bottom of the list. He hit the one that said Capital and then waited, surprised that someone picked up almost immediately.
"This is King Richard."
Timon didn't wait, or explain who he was, "Dean Kyle Hardgrove. He's asked me to take him to you tonight, under cover of darkness. Is this a good or bad thing?"
The voice came back instantly.
"Good. You can trust him. More, your grandfather does. If you'd be willing to bring him for dinner that would be perfect."
"On it. See you then."
The fast conversation meant he was out within two minutes, smiling a bit, then he gestured to the gleaming craft as if they were discussing it. The older man played along perfectly, touching the side again, lovingly.
"Tonight. You're invited to dinner. Where do I get you? We'll be a little late if you really don't want to be seen at all."
The man was careful and indicated the woods between the town and the school, a slim strip that would be just big enough if he changed the color very carefully as he went.
Timon pointed to his sister and smiled at the older man, shaking his hand again, since he was responsible for her and his friends after he left.
"This is my sister Tiera Baker. You probably know the others. Tiera, this is Dean Hardgrove. We've made an arrangement. As long as you never make his job harder and get good marks, there won't be any random beatings. Well hardly any. Maybe the chance one now and again to keep you honest."
The man looked over at her seriously.
"Your brother obviously cares for you very much, to get such an agreement in place. Most families just tell us to beat their offspring until they mind correctly. I trust that won't be a problem?"
The others laughed and she blushed a little, then she bobbed her head.
"Well, I'll promise not to get caught too often, is that enough?"
The man smiled then, a genuine thing. "Oddly... it is. I see you have flying gear on. Do you know how to use it?" He seemed interested rather than judging.
She shrugged and looked at the stone, pretending to be shy.
"Two Bends Fast Delivery service agent for over two years. I often had to put in over six flight hours per day, up to twelve when school was on vacation. I probably have more flight hours than anyone not in the military flyers corps or my family. Tim here has more, since I spent more time organizing the warehouse, but I can fly pretty well in a pinch."
What the man did next was amazing. He clapped her on the back.
"Excellent indeed. Would you be willing to restructure your day to act as our flight instructor then? We have the equipment, but no one with even half the experience you do. We don't pay for the work, but it can count as a class credit or two. Normally our combat instructors take care of that, but they all seem to be working at other jobs suddenly. Most annoying to tell the truth."
Tiera looked at him, as if he might just be joking with her again and finally she nodded.
"I can do that. I've helped to train delivery people to fly before at least. It isn't hard. I don't know anything about fighting however."
The others helped her carry the trunks and the Dean grabbed one of the handles with her, so they could keep discussing the topic, leaving him all alone. That clearly wasn't a mistake. He was trying to seem uninterested in him. The older man was doing a nearly perfect job of it too. A professional job. It probably meant he either was, or at least had been, a spy. That would explain the weapons calluses too.
That left him with some time, but not a lot, to get back to Two Bends to get that taken care of.
It took less time to get in and get there going back, since no one else had to be arranged in the craft. That always seemed to take the most time for some reason. Even people that moved fast tended to drag at the overall time.
In Two Bends there was a lot of help getting the baked goods into the back of the reconfigured vehicle, since the whole family had been baking for hours, and then, as things finished up, some neighbors helped get things in place. It wasn't their war, but a mention that the people from Lairdgren had sent these things along wouldn't hurt if they were ever attacked, would it?
The camp was way easier to find in daylight and while there was a clear battle line on both sides, no one was actively fighting yet. There had been a sk
irmish earlier it looked like, but his landing had the Count out in less than ten minutes. He seemed a little surprised to see him at all, the white tents made of canvas flapping a little in the breeze. There were too many people, too close together, so the area was starting to smell a little. It wasn't a horrible thing yet, but he figured that they had three more days before the pits dug for waste started to overpower everything else.
"Timon... I wasn't expecting you back so soon, is everything alright?"
"Oh, sure. I brought a treat for the troops, at least some of them and some shields that Sam Builder of the Lairdgren group has for sale. It's a bit of a bargain for you, since he made a deal with me for transport services. Full class eight shields, one hundred of them." He didn't sound overly energetic, but held the bag in his right hand and grabbed a handful of copper disks out to show him. One was handed over for him to check, which he did happily enough. That involved grabbing a man that had been drunk on duty and beating him with a sword and then a force lance. Nothing happened of course.
The man just sighed and nodded.
"Demand market. I guess I can't expect a great price. I'll give you eleven hundred gold for each. I can only afford twenty." There was a grimace admitting it, and another when Tim shook his head no.
"I have orders from Sam. Technically I bought these from him, since he's currently working for the King directly, or was until this morning. You understand?"
The man looked down and took a frustrated breath, hissing a little as he spoke.
"I do." He didn't sound all that happy about it.
"Good, I bought them for one hundred gold each. I'll sell them to you for two hundred. Because Sam worked for the King, until this morning."
The man didn't seem to believe him at first, and especially didn't when Timon didn't make him wait to distribute them until after he'd been paid. The man did offer to have the money sent to his house in the Capital. It would take nearly a week, since it took a long time to get large sums of coin from the bank. It made it nearly impossible to rob however, so no one complained too much.
After he handed the bag over, Timon opened the back hatch for the man to look in. The rows of trays looked lovely and a crowd started to gather. He held up a hand and waved them all back, laughing.
"Share. I know this isn't enough for all of you, so try to make sure the people that have seen battle get some first. Also, save the trays, I need to return them."
It only took three minutes for the first fight to break out, once people realized there wasn't going to be enough for everyone. He felt bad about that, but the Count just laughed and called for order, then handed the things out himself. Timon did make certain to credit the people of Two Bends in Lairdgren for it, which got a cheer from the men and women surrounding them.
The trays were empty of even scraps after a few minutes, which left a lot of people standing around looking at those with baked goods a bit enviously. It wasn't until the Count spoke that Timon got that it wasn't just the fact that most people liked sweets doing it.
"We had to move into place fast. That meant we didn't have time to bring along everything we needed. We have some food, but everyone is on half rations. We have wagons coming, but that could take several more days." The man didn't frown or give him a hard look, or even a suggestive one, he just looked at his people. "It shouldn't have happened. None of this should. I wish I knew what the hell Holder was doing. This doesn't make sense at all. He's a pain in the ass, that can't be denied, but it's always been an annoyance, not open battle. If you would have asked me a month ago about the man I would have said he was a bit of a coward, to tell the truth."
It wasn't a great situation, and Timon wanted to help, but he knew that there was only so much he could do himself. Plus, he had commitments. Thinking he tried to come up with a solution that might keep these people from going hungry for a bit. They'd already been eating the wildlife it seemed, and most of that had either run off or become dinner. Even the bugs were in danger.
The trick there was that these people needed to transport goods fast. He did people. For large shipments you went to the Morgan family concern. That would mean flying to their Duchy, which was above and to the east of the Capital a good way. After saying his goodbyes he got in his Fast Craft and looked at the time, which was two-forty. If he could make the trip inside two hours both ways and spend no more than two on the ground he could make it. He wasn't certain about that, since he'd never been there himself. It might be worth checking in to at least.
The flight was fast and he ended up in what really seemed to be the middle of nowhere. The only thing that was helpful there was that after a while, on the horizon, moving at a decent speed, was a cargo container. Just one of them, and it could have been moving toward or away from the right place. Tim followed it and with some relief saw it land carefully with about twenty others in a dirt field. It was being directed like a big piece of luggage, following the woman flying in front of it. She was using a rig, it was clear and standing straight up and down in the air, with her right arm bent as she touched the dirt softly. Other than the fact that she was dressed all in blue, he couldn't tell a single thing about her, or any of the other workers on the ground.
When he settled and got out of his craft several of them were standing there, staring at him. It was a bit intimidating.
So he waved.
"Countier Lairdgren, Timon Baker. I've come to see about arranging an emergency shipment. Is this the right place for that?"
As a group they all bowed, and decently low which meant as large as some of them were, they weren't nobles most likely. A man in the back, who was older and holding a piece of paper nodded.
"Yes sir. We can direct you to Duke Morgan. I think he's at the upper office right now. This way." The man didn't seem overly stiff or anything, but he didn't chat to pass the time as they walked either, just plowing ahead, his longer legs covering the ground pretty well, even if he was only about six-six. He was hard looking, like a military man, not just someone that carried lists around with him all day.
That likely meant he was in the Duke's military somewhere. Probably high up, if he was also allowed to control a big portion of the Kingdom's rapid goods shipments. The building they went to was plain, made of wood, and a little boring on the outside. Clean, the area around it tidy, and it was painted with a fresh coat of blue paint, but other than that it seemed like any work building anywhere. Practical, with not much else going for it.
The door was closed and the tall, clean faced, man pounded on it harder than was probably needed. After a few seconds a voice rang out.
"Come in." It was pleasant enough and deeply male. The kind of thing that he would have wanted to have for himself, if it didn't require growing an extra two feet. Not that he would have hated that, but it wasn't happening, so wishing for it would be a waste of time.
The man that had led him there stayed outside after opening the door to a single room with two large desks in it. There were throw rugs on the floor, in several different colors and the chairs were both nice leather ones with a lot of padding. Behind the desk that was further back sat Duke Morgan, who was looking at him curiously.
"Welcome! I'm Eric Morgan, did you come looking for a job? We can only take sworn men and women on as flyers, but if you're willing to work hard there are some other positions we have available. Some of them are fairly low work I'm afraid, to start with. Sweeping up and such. From your clothing I assume that seems beneath you, but if that doesn't scare you off we might well be able to work something out." He sounded as if it wasn't the first time he said those words at all. He wasn't bored by it at all, just curious about what Timon's answer would be.
He looked at the man, realizing he honestly didn't recognize him. Of course the one time they'd met, over a four day period, he hadn't exactly been interesting. This was a different setting and he was also wearing much nicer clothing.
Tim bowed to the man and grinned.
"There's always sweeping to do
, and someone has to do it. I've come to see about hiring some of your people for goods transport however. Provision wagons. They need to move about three hundred miles or so as quickly as possible. Taking food near a battle line in Breen. This is a rush job, but I don't know the rates at all for something like this. I also probably can't pay you today for it. We won't need to do all of them, I don't think, just the first twenty wagons or so."
The man pulled a piece of paper and started writing, a line of figures along the side. After a minute without talking he nodded and then touched his face, which was a little long and held large teeth. Friendly enough looking for all that.
"It will still take a few days. I can start ten of my people flying that way within the hour, but they can't make it today. If we pull the cargo plates off some containers they should be able to do it in one delivery. There is a matter of an emergency job, as well as hazard pay, since you said it's a combat situation. Do you know what's going on?"
The man just seemed curious still, and folk did like information when they were sending in people to dangerous situations. The truth was he didn't really know much though.
"Count Holder suddenly attacked last week, and sent Duchess Keene a letter telling her that her services would no longer be needed. The rest of the Duchy is moving to block him now and shut it all down. I don't know any more than that. Or at least nothing that I could share."
Instead of the man getting upset he looked at the last figure in his column, which said two hundred and eight. After a few seconds he shrugged.
"I'll need two hundred gold for it. Is that within your means?"
The strange thing there, was that it would be, if anyone paid him. He nodded firmly.
"Yes, and I can get your people to Breen tonight. Maybe even to the wagons so they can start first thing in the morning. I run the fast transport service, so I get to do things like that."
The man looked blank for a few seconds and then shook his head.