Storms Over Open Fields (Life of Riley Book 2)

by G. Howell

  “We have been trained,” Rohinia rumbled.

  “Oh,” I leaned back, feeling the jolting of the carriage through the seat change in tempo and sound. I glanced out through the carved privacy screen: There were trees passing by out there. We were passing a small park with a colorful market taking place. “Glad to hear it.”

  Rohinia bristled. Jenes’ahn leaned forward and said to me, “Explain, please.”

  Please. That caused me to raise an eyebrow. Compared with the other Mediator she was young. And she was being polite. They weren’t trying that game again, were they? I mulled it over for a few seconds and then nodded. “Very well. Umm, gunpowder is a good one.”

  “Huhn, it can be used for military applications as well as constructive purposes. Is that what you mean?”

  “A,” I nodded, not entirely surprised that they’d anticipated that. They weren’t fools. Well, not stupid ones anyway. “Exactly. That is an obvious one. But there are a lot of other instances where it might not be so clear. A lot of our machinery knowledge came from military ideas that were converted to everyday use. I think that doing the reverse wouldn’t be so difficult.”

  “We know this,” Shyia said.

  Yeah, he probably did, but did they fully understand it?

  “Sir,” Rohinia said and it was a second or so before I realized he was addressing me. “We are aware of that issue. We were told that a lot of the information you may impart may be difficult to comprehend, making a judgment difficult. Our orders and expectation are not to be able to evaluate or even understand everything on the spot, but we will do what must be done to ensure that others do not openly abuse this arrangement.”

  “And you will be expected to cooperate,” Shyia told me. “If you are requested to provide information about something, it is expected that you will do so.”

  “Or I’ll get a bad mark on my report card?” I muttered, watching the boulevard unwind outside.

  “You are still under Guild assessment,” Shyia said. “Don’t forget that.”

  “With these two hanging around, that’s going to be difficult,” I said. “So that’s all they will be doing? Watching me to see if I am a spy and making sure nobody gets their hands on dangerous pieces of information?”

  “And keeping you out of trouble,” Shyia added.

  “That’s necessary?”

  “Mikah,” Shyia hissed resignedly, “you’ve been implicated or involved in some way or another with murder, smuggling, abductions and assassinations and disruption of administrations and Guild services. And that is only in the space of two years!”

  “Ah,” I scratched my beard. “They’ve been interesting times.”

  “Indeed. They have been tasked to keep you out of trouble and protect you if... when trouble seeks you out.”

  “They will, will they?” I asked and eyed the pair. Judging by all that grey and white fur and collection of war wounds he was an elder and she was young and brash and didn’t look like much. “Are they any good?”

  “He was my teacher,” Shyia said.

  “Really?” I blinked, and then asked again, “Are they any...”

  “Yes, he is very good,” Shyia quietly finished for me.

  “Oh,” I looked from one to the other. “So, what happens now? Where are you taking me?”

  “Why, back to your handlers, of course.”

  “Handlers?” I frowned.

  “The delegation from Land of Water,” he said.

  I glared and felt my hand twitch toward a fist again. Was he deliberately baiting me? How was I supposed to respond to that?

  “I think of them as friends,” I corrected him tersely.

  “Do you?” he said, as if that fact were of mild inconsequence and then seemed to dismiss it out of hand. “At any rate, this is what is going to happen:

  “The constables will accompany you at all times. Whenever you have a meeting with members of government, Guilds, or private individuals they will be present. When you attend functions or balls, they will accompany you. Whenever you visit a workshop or industry they will be there. Whenever you discuss any item of advanced knowledge, whether the subject be large industry or small toys, they must be presents. And you will not disclose or discuss any items of advanced knowledge with anyone, including your associates and those you consider friends without their evaluation and approval.”

  I chewed that over. I really don’t think he could see just what sort of problems those controls were going to cause. But I’d seen too many managerial types before; too many control freaks who found that while their words were great inside their own heads, when it came to the actual application, they were distinctly lacking. Sometimes it was better to let their own grandiose, teetering declarations come crashing down around them.

  “This is your idea?” I asked Shyia.

  “Guild proclamation,” he said, which wasn’t really answering the question.

  “It’s all in writing?”

  “Of course,” he said. “You understand those conditions?”

  “The rhyme, but not the reason,” I sighed, looking out at trees passing by at a plodding pace. Out there insects were rasping in the building heat of the day. Already the cab was stuffy.

  “Say something that makes sense,” Shyia snapped.

  “Those conditions are perfectly clear,” I said in my best Rris.

  He lowered his muzzle and glared at me, then said to the other two, “You’re sure you want this?”

  “A,” Rohinia waved an affirmative, and then very deliberately grinned at me. “It looks like it could be interesting.”

  ------v------

  Gravel rattled and grated beneath the iron-rimmed wheels as the carriage clattered around the loop at the end of the driveway. The sound and feel of the ride changed to iron rumbling on flagstones and then slowed to a halt. Outside, I heard raised voices. Jenes’ahn opened the door on her side and hopped out, followed by Shyia. Rohinia nodded his muzzle toward the door and told me, “Go ahead.”

  I clambered out, wincing as I stepped down onto hard flagstones. Ahead of me were the front steps of the palace, rising to the huge doors and the imposing facade. Early easterly light fell across the ornate stonework of the walls and the cast bronze of the doors, the metal glowing as if were still molten. High above the doors, from the flagpole at the top of the walls, her Ladyship’s banner hung limply in the still air.

  “Mikah,” Shyia said and when I looked around he handed me a black impact plastic case. “Your impossible book,” he told me as I blinked in surprise.

  “I wasn’t expecting to get that back,” I said as I took it from him.

  “The Guild decided it was better to keep the problems in one place,” he said and then looked at the other two Mediators.

  “He’s yours now,” he told them. “You’ve got your orders. You understand them.”

  “Remember who you’re talking to, cub,” Rohinia growled. “You’ll be getting the reports.”

  “Very good,” Shyia said and his tail lashed as he looked at me. “And watch him. He’s going to cause problems you’ve never dreamt of. Easy trails to the pair of you.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Jenes’ahn said and Shyia turned his back on us and hopped back into the cab in a smooth, lithe movement. Jenes’ahn shut the door behind him. The Mediator on the driver’s bench flicked the reigns and the elk in the traceries hauled the carriage into motion. Big, spoked wheels rattled on by with an unmistakable grating sound of iron on stone and then the carriage was rounding the loop and receding along the driveway leading off through the summer fields.

  The two Mediator constables were standing waiting for me, knapsacks slung over their shoulders and flintlock pistols prominently thrust through bandoliers. “After you, sir,” Jenes’ahn told me.

  Guards and
staff stared as we climbed those broad steps up toward the front doors. Nobody came forward or barred our way or tried to stop us. We were just able to stroll in through the front doors, into the gleaming marble antechamber. Halfway across the polished expanse of floor we were intercepted by a scurrying steward who hustled up and looked from me to the Mediators as is he weren’t sure whom he should be addressing. Or whom he’d rather be addressing.

  “Sir,” he finally decided and ducked his head to me, “You are... Please, her Ladyship gave orders... Sir, please, this way.”

  “Incoherent, yet to the point,” I shrugged and changed my course to do as he asked. My own personal Mediators padded after me like a pair of storm clouds.

  The flustered steward led the way through the palace; through corridors of lined with statues and pictures, through chambers of marble and gilt. He kept glancing back as he took us through door after door. He obviously wanted to hurry, but I limped along at my own pace with the Mediators flanking me a few steps behind.

  “Mikah!” a shout rang out as we crossed from door to door through an open room that was windows and mirrors and gilt frames carved into intricately interlacing golden representations of branches and vines. A group of Rris were visible through another door, hurrying up a hall toward us. The Mediators stiffened and turned, altering their stance in a way that was subtle but unmistakable.

  “Hold it,” I hastily held my hand up to forestall them even as I broke into a grin and turned the gesture into a wave. “Hi! Chaeitch! Rraerch,” I greeted the first two as they slowed down from a most undignified run with a spattering of claws. Lagging a short distance behind them I recognised Chriét and a pair of Open Fields guards.

  “Mikah,” Rraerch stared at me and the Mediators, “What it this? What is... ai!”

  She yelped when I caught her up in an embrace, lifting her feet off the floor. “Rraerch,” I repeated as I hugged her. When I put her down she looked embarrassed as she smoothed ruffled fur. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “What about me?” Chaeitch observed and hastily stepped back as I approached him. “Just a greetings will suffice,” he amended, holding up a hand.

  “Good to see you, too,” I grinned.

  “Is there something wrong?” Rohinia asked me, and when I looked confused Chaeitch pointed to his own mouth, indicating my grin.

  “Oh, no,” I struggled to get my smile under control again. “Sorry, I forgot myself.”

  “Actually,” Rraerch said, “I was going to ask the same question. What’s happening?”

  “Ah,” I shrugged. “Well, there’s good news and there’s bad news. The good news is that they’ve decided to let me go.”

  “And the bad?”

  I jerked a thumb over my shoulder at the Mediators. “Meet bad news one and two.”

  Rraerch’s ears went back. From all the other Rris there were signs of shock. Chaeitch winced. “Mikah,” he sighed and bowed to the Mediators, “Constables, I think we need to sit down and then perhaps you could explain this situation to us?”

  ------v------

  Things whirled off quickly after that. Chriét promptly found a room for the impromptu conference. I thought I’d been there before... one of those rooms with a big table and cushions arranged around it, although I’d seen so many of those that they were all beginning to run together. The tall windows along one wall were open, admitting a lazy breeze that curled through the room. Lopsided wedges of brilliant sunlight streamed in, glaring from white stone and polished wood and keeping Rris’ pupils contracted to narrow slits, their fur limned in white halos.

  There’d been an interval during which stewards occasionally circulated and bearing trays of titbits and drinks. I accepted some wine and hard biscuits, passed on cubes of raw meat and watched as other Rris bustled in and out of the room. From the looks of things, the arrival of the Mediators and myself at the palace had been the equivalent of poking a stick into a termite mound. Rris hurried in and out and engaged in hurried conferences, trying to sort out who would sit in.

  I just sat back and sipped at the mediocre wine and let others rush around and deal with all that. Chaeitch and Rraerch tried to sit and get a few words in with me, but they were swept away by the arrival of Marasitha and a party from the Land of Water embassy and drawn into some intense confabulations off in a corner. It was the better part of an hour before they got their act together and settled down to talk. By then there were a good dozen Rris seated around the table, gathered to listen to the Mediators lay down the new law. I mostly listened, just a passive pair of ears.

  The Rris listened, then they asked the questions. All the ones that I’d asked and more than a few new ones. The Mediators sat cross-legged on their cushions, out of place in their plain quilted jackets amongst the finery and glittering jewelry. They answered levelly, patiently and precisely and I did notice the pair answered the questions that were asked of them, but didn’t offer any extraneous information. They produced some pieces of paper and those were spread out on the table. I saw the densely packed criss-crosed chicken scratching of Rris handwriting - too complex for me to decipher - and complex wax seals. The documents were closely examined several times by several parties.

  Their audience didn’t seem entirely happy with what they heard. Ears twitched back and there around the table.

  “This was the only solution the Guild arrived at?” one asked.

  “It was decided that this was the best way.”

  “What alternatives were there?”

  “For the Guild to hold him and dispense information at our discretion; to release him under our supervision, or to simply execute him.”

  Eyes turned to me. I shrugged uncomfortably.

  “And why return him to Land of Water?” another asked. “Surely it would be better to share him freely amongst the countries?”

  Rohinia eyed the questioner and rasped, “We considered that course and decided it would be too risky. There was too much of a chance of something happening to him.”

  “What? How can you be so sure?”

  “If he was handed around like a commodity we think it would happen. By his own hand, quite likely,” the Mediator said calmly.

  “That doesn’t make sense,” the Rris said. Others looked confused but out of the corner of my eye I saw Chaeitch and Rraerch both look at me. I swallowed.

  “And that is one of the reasons we think that it would not be a sound idea,” the Mediator said. “He is not a Rris. He is not anything anyone has had experience with before. Every time he would be sent to a new country his hosts would have to learn that all over again. Too many opportunities for errors. Land of Water has had time to make their mistakes and hopefully learn from them. Since the Guild decided he should live, we will do our utmost to ensure he does. Until we decide otherwise.

  Of course Land of Water will not be permitted to monopolize him. It is expected that he will be made available to other countries for consultation, perhaps temporary exchanges. That is for governments to sort out.”

  They chewed that over. I could see they weren’t happy about it, but they accepted it.

  “And you’ll be controlling everything he says?”

  “Not everything. You are welcome to ask questions of him. Any answers he has he will supply to us. We will determine whether or not they should be passed along.”

  “But, is it necessary?”

  The elder Mediator’s gravelly voice hardened. “The Guild has determined that it is quite necessary and the Guild has responded. We are that response. We are here to do our duty, not to continually justify Guild mandates. Any issues or concerns that you have with the situation can be presented through the usual channels. Until then, we are telling you how it is going to be and you will accord us the same cooperation you would any Guild representative.”

  All round the table
ears went down, laying like dominoes. I sighed quietly into my cup. Oh, yes. This was looking better and better.

  ------v------

  My hosts reinstated me in the rooms they’d originally given me when we’d first arrived in Open Fields. In the pale stone antechamber just inside the front door to the suite, the staff were lined up, their heads bowed in greeting. On the wall behind them the same piece of weathered driftwood was present, flanked by the same decorative bulrushes. In the drawing room the drapes were thrown back and sunlight streamed in through the windows . Over on the writing desk were some Rris books I’d been leafing through, right where I’d left them. Through in the bedroom the french windows hung open, letting the breeze through. The big mirror reflected blue from the sky outside. My luggage was on the bench by the door and a change of my clothes was laid out on the dressing frame.

  I stood in the archway through to the drawing room. Everything was as I’d left it. As if I’d never been running for my life. And that felt vaguely... insulting.

  “Sir,” Hiesh, the steward of the suite stood behind me. The others had departed quietly, decorously. “If there is anything you require, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Thank you,” I said tiredly, “but that will be all.”

  “Very good, sir,” he inclined his head, turned and left. As he did so he passed by Jenes’ahn standing at ease by the front door. She watched him leave then went back to staring at me. Her partner was delayed with Chaeitch and Rraerch, discussing something that they didn’t want me involved in.

  “Why don’t you sit?” I told her, waving my arm generally in the direction of the drawing room as I stepped on into the bedroom. “Pull up a... cushion or something.”

  I packed the laptop back into its wooden Rris-made travel case. When I looked up the Mediator was standing in the arch through to the drawing room. She blinked placidly.