Chloë

by Marcus LaGrone

  “Nope… but it is fun watching him squirm. To know that getting caught bothers him and yet he keeps coming back…”

  “I do think Father and First Mother will like him,” Chloë said with a grin. “You’ve got two years before you can start worrying about being too serious…”

  “One year and three months, but who’s counting?” grinned Heather.

  Chloë laughed, “Ah! All the more reason to find you a suitable job! A proper apprenticeship, young lady!”

  “Ack! There you go, being practical! Spoiling the whole mood!” fired off Heather with false remorse.

  “Go on! Raymond will be safe! I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  Heather grinned and disappeared in a flash.

  Chloë drained the tub and took a quick shower to rinse off the suds. Raymond. He was really a nice young man. Back at the palace he had been so… professional… How many other people back there were wonderful people who were just never given the chance to shine, to be themselves? The palace seemed to stifle everyone… Chloë concentrated on happier things as she dried and stepped back into the bedroom. Much to her surprise there was a new skirt and blouse sitting on her bed! With a gracious heart for whoever it was, she donned the new, and mercifully dry, clothes. Wait a minute! Heather had been wearing something new, too! Chloë laughed to herself as she made her way back downstairs.

  Isabel beamed as Chloë entered the lobby, “Ah, good! It seems they fit you too!”

  Chloë grinned as she gave the skirt a quick twirl, “Do I have you to thank for these?”

  Isabel laughed, “It was Raymond’s idea and he picked out the style and colors, I just did my best to guess the size and fit!”

  “Um, there wasn’t a problem paying for these was there?” asked Chloë apologetically.

  Isabel shook her said and smiled, “Watzkel put down a Ptir as a retainer for her troops and for you three as well. I’m not sure the exact exchange rate right now, but a Ptir comes in at around twelve-thousand talirs or so. Those are trade coins, not the type thing you walk into a regular store with. Hence my worry of making change!”

  “One more reason to thank her and her wonderful troops,” grinned Chloë. “She has the scariest ‘friendly’ face…”

  Isabel laughed, “Yes. Yes Shukurae are quite imposing looking, and it was my bad manners that I recoiled as I did this morning. I know they are good people. They are just a bit…”

  “Serious?”

  “Excellent choice of words!” beamed Isabel as she handed Chloë a folding menu, “Now, speaking of choices, what would you like for breakfast?”

  Chloë beamed as she looked at all the choices, they all looked wonderful and seventy percent of them made it past her most demanding criteria: warm! She laughed as she picked out an old favorite and then skipped on her way to the dining room. Raymond and Heather were snuggled up at a booth, while Watzkel and three other Shukurae made do with awkward seating arrangements in the far corner. Heather was playfully nuzzling Raymond as she approached. “May I sit here, or are you two trying to salvage your privacy?” grinned Chloë.

  “Sit! Sit!” laughed Heather. “Always happy to eat with family. Besides, Watzkel is such a bad chaperone that it takes some of the sport out of it!”

  Heather jumped as Watzkel fired back from across the room, “I thought I was doing quite well. So long as you don’t throw a kitten before I get you back home, I’ve done my job.”

  Heather’s nose and ears flushed as her fur stood on end prompting a belly laugh from both Raymond and Chloë. “Don’t tease the Shukurae,” admonished Raymond with a grin. “They have excellent hearing and a wicked sense of humor.”

  The room went quiet as a stranger entered: an older human easily in his fifties. It wasn’t him being a human so much that stuck out in everyone’s mind: it was his mannerisms. He was obviously in a hurry and looking for something, or someone…

  He made square eye contact with Heather and everyone at the table suddenly became tense. “Are you Ivy Stratford’s daughter by any chance?” he asked carefully.

  “Um, yes?” replied Heather, her apprehension showing.

  The man grinned broadly, “I thought you looked familiar. Jake Ellington. I think I last saw you when Edward got married. You were little then!”

  Heather laughed and grinned, “I was all of three years old at that point. Trevor brought your name up just a few weeks ago.”

  “Trevor?” grinned Jake. “I thought he had retired. What was he need’n a sniper for?”

  Heather grinned, “You know Trevor, he’s as retired as Gillian will let him be. Oh! This is my sister, Chloë, and my boyfriend, Raymond!”

  Jake smiled and shook hands with both, “Jake Ellington, formerly of the 512th CSOG. Well, formerly of a lot of things, but it was with the Shukurae that I got introduced to the Highlanders. I’ve got to get back before I’m missed. I’m here visiting my daughter and her husband and I think we are about ready to head out to the country. Take care and say ‘hi’ to your parents for me!”

  Heather smiled broadly, “Well, get! Go! Don’t be late on our account, and I’ll be sure to pass along the greeting!”

  Jake shook their hands one last time and then hurried from the room.

  Raymond beamed at Heather, “It seems people that actually know your parents think quite highly of them. I do think it would be amusing to have the Crown Prince and Llewellyn to actually meet face to face. Especially if the Prince didn’t know who he was.”

  “Devious!” grinned Heather. “I like it!” Her grin vanished as Watzkel’s giant form sudden loomed over them. “Um, yes?” Heather asked meekly.

  “Trouble. Your uncle Edward fought with the 517th not the 512th.”

  Chloë clinched her teeth, “So, he wasn’t the real Jake Ellington and was probably trouble waiting to happen.”

  “Are you certain he was a fraud?” asked Raymond with eyes clenched shut.

  “My sister, Kadu, served in the 517th; I know the lore well!”

  “So that is how you knew of House Stratford,” grinned Heather.

  “And even more of House Rose. But the point at hand: what do we do about the fraudster?”

  “Oh no, not back out in the rain,” fretted Chloë.

  “No ma’am!” retorted Raymond. “We just got clean and dry.” Suddenly he stopped, lost in thought. He held up a hand for silence as he stood up and moved to the end of the table. A quick look later and he produced a small electronic bug from the underside of the table where “Jake” had been standing. He sighed and rolled his eyes but Watzkel just grinned.

  “Okay, this is easy enough,” began Watzkel with a broad grin. “We hire out three extra rooms up a floor and move everyone up a floor. We put guards in their old rooms and wait for the fun.”

  They all smiled and nodded.

  “Come on, let’s let Chloë eat her breakfast and then we’ll worry about such things later,” grinned Raymond.

  “So what is planned for the day?” asked Chloë as she poked Heather playfully in the ribs.

  “Not a darn thing! They have a library in town; I figure that is good for most of the afternoon.”

  “What, no elaborate dances planned?” teased Chloë back.

  “Heavens, no! Besides, you’ve seen my newest student: Watzkel! I’m not sure she has the time to spare.”

  “I think it would take the better part of a month to make me graceful, Lady Heather.”

  Heather grinned, “I do so love a good challenge!”

  43

  About three in the morning, everything cut lose: an explosion ripped through the “extra” bedrooms on the third floor and the Shukurae moved in to clean up the stragglers. Heather had been sleeping in bed with Chloë in Raymond’s old room as everything went down, and Heather’s fitful burst of laughter all but launched Chloë off the far side of the bed.

  “Oh, that was priceless!” beamed Heather. “They fell for it!”

  “How much explosives did they use?” asked Ch
loë with real concern; she didn’t want the hotel to fall down!

  “Those were flash-bangs… stun grenades… you know, like out in the rain yesterday? They are more about loud than destruction. Curious which ones they set off…”

  “Go back to sleep, ladies,” called Watzkel from the hall.

  “Yes, mom!” yelled Heather. Heather just giggled as she rolled over in bed.

  Chloë stared at the ceiling and, once again, she marveled at Heather’s resilience. To Heather catching the would-be kidnappers was some sort of joke, a game… no, not a game… “Heather?”

  “What’s up, Chloë?”

  “How… how do you let it all roll off you? How do you go back to sleep so easily? I mean tonight, or that night back at your house… our house… when those guys broke into your bedroom…”

  Heather rolled over and smiled, “I can sleep because I know I can defend myself if I have to. I can sleep because I know there are wonderful people all around me that are busting their butts to make sure I don’t! Father, Gavin, Watzkel, even Raymond: they will protect us, not because it is their job, but it is what they do; their very nature. They are loving and protective people. If I stay up at night worrying, I’m not letting them do their job.”

  “I guess it is all about trust. And trust for the right reasons.”

  “Exactly! This isn’t about money, honor or pride. It is because they care. You know Watzkel is going to have to do a lot of explaining when she gets back to the fleet. She knows people are going to put her under a microscope and question her every move. She knows that and doesn’t care.”

  “Doing the right thing was more important,” finished Chloë as she finally managed an honest smile. Suddenly the smile flickered and vanished, “What about Raymond! You don’t just quit the palace guard! They’ll…”

  “You don’t just round up your ward, still in her nightgown, commandeer a ship and fly thousands of lightyears away to an alien world, now do you? But your governess Anna did! There are good people everywhere. Not all of them make the tough decisions, but some do. And some find that not doing something is an even tougher decision. I know the Crown Prince is going to be mad! But even he is capable of making tough decisions, the right decisions.”

  “Philip,” grinned Chloë. “Just call him Philip. After all that has happened, I’m amazed that you hold out hope even for him.”

  “There is good in everyone…”

  “Okay, that’s enough! I’m with Raymond on this one: if you break into song I’m gonna hurl!”

  Heather just laughed, “Well alright then! Sleep sleep!”

  “Sleep sleep!”

  44

  Raymond was late for breakfast. It seemed someone had to explain what all was going on, and the local constable was terrified of Watzkel. That did not bode well for the constable’s long term employment…

  “The man could handle ghastly murders, rapists, rustlers and kidnappers, but could not handle a Shukurae trying to be helpful,” mused Raymond as he ate his late breakfast.

  “Well, you weren’t too keen on Shukurae this time last month,” admonished Heather seriously.

  “Yes, but at least I was professional enough to talk with them,” he replied. “We are leaving here soon, aren’t we?” he asked to Watzkel.

  “Yes, Raymond Stratfordslance, we should have a transport here in just a few hours.”

  Heather grinned at Raymond, waiting for some form of reaction to his new title.

  Raymond just grinned and shrugged, “I can live with that. It’s far better than I feared.”

  “What is your family name?” asked Heather.

  “You are crawling all over him and you don’t know his family name?” laughed Chloë.

  “Hey! I’m interested in him, not his family,” grinned Heahter.

  “‘Thompson,’” offered Chloë with a grin.

  “Nope, it appears to be ‘Stratfordslance,’” grinned Raymond. “I, for one, am not about to argue with Line Centurion Watzkel!”

  Watzkel cut loose with a belly laugh that made the room shake.

  Raymond grimaced as he poked at his food. “Not quite as good as yesterday…”

  “What are you talking about?” retorted Chloë. “The food was excellent!”

  Raymond cocked an eyebrow at her, “Maybe yours was. Mine kinda tastes, well, like the eggs went bad. Kinda sulfury…”

  Watzkel yawned and laughed, “It all tastes the same to me.”

  Raymond twitched nervously as Watzkel giggled. “Um, ma’am, are you all right?” asked Raymond with growing apprehension.

  “Aww, the little kitty gets all serious,” she giggled back.

  Heather blinked and stared at Raymond, “Um… that’s not right…”

  “Sulfur! Rivostone-isothiocyanate!” recoiled Raymond. “Watzkel! You are being gassed!”

  It was all a little too late, Watzkel just sat there laughing at nothing in particular. Raymond, Chloë and Heather bolted from the table to find the other Shukurae already out of commission: sitting in place with a stupor on their face and giggling.

  “We need to go, now!” bellowed Raymond as he ran for the door.

  “Won’t the gas affect us too?” asked Heather as she followed close on his heels.

  “Only at very high concentrations! Ironically, in low doses it’s actually good for us,” replied Raymond as he held the door for the girls. “Crap! We sold the horses!”

  “Ugh! It smells like boiled Brussels sprouts!” gagged Heather at the smell outside.

  “Similar chemical actually…” Raymond paused as his eyes went wide.

  Overhead, descending through the thick gloomy clouds were a series of repulsar gunships. Not Shukurae gunships. These had the markings and livery of House Amsterval! Suddenly, all along the city streets burst an army of soldiers, Taiks, palace guards to House Amsterval. Armed and armored they closed, their faces blocked by full masks and artificial respirators. Briefly Chloë’s mind pondered the need for respirators if the gas Raymond had mentioned wasn’t dangerous to them. This idle curiosity was instantly brushed aside as traditional riot gas started to flood the streets. In a matter of seconds they were lost in the putrid fog.

  All around her Chloë could hear orders being cast about in her native tongue: “There she is in the middle!” “Quick, while they’ve escaped from the monsters!” “Save the princess!” “Get her air, get her air, get her…”

  45

  Chloë gagged as she woke up. Between the sulfurous smell and the riot gas, her sinuses hated her. She started to roll over to throw up when she suddenly realized she was surrounded by an army of attendants. The army of ladies, young and old, quickly helped her to the sink and cleaned her up. Chloë started to zone out; things were back to the way they were before. She was standing there, motionless, brainless, while these ladies took care of her every need. Cleaning her hair, brushing it, combing her tail and dressing her in long silken finery. Absentmindedly she finally managed to get out, “Are we home?”

  “No, your Highness. But we should be there in three days! Oh…” the blabbering started again. They all liked to blabber. Never was there any good to be said save for the start and end. Things were right back where they had been… been before…

  “No!” Chloë shouted at no one in particular.

  The masses recoiled and started blubbering their apologies.

  “Where is Raymond? Where is Heather?” she demanded.

  “Agent Raymond is still in the infirmary…”

  “What of Lady Heather! Reddish orange coat, white throat with flaming red curly hair! Where is she!”

  “Lady Heather?” one asked apologetically.

  “She’s the daughter of a baron and my confidante. Where is she?”

  “She is in the infirmary as well, your Highness. We had no idea that…”

  “Just take me to her.”

  “But the infirmary is such a dreadful place and…”

  “Did… I… stutter?” snarled Chloë.

/>   “No, your Highness. It is just that…”

  “What happens to those when I have to repeat myself?” glared Chloë.

  “I… I will alert them that we are coming, your Highness.”

  “Good.” Chloë closed her eyes and growled to no one in particular. “This dress is monstrous. What was wrong with what I was wearing when I came on board?”

  “It was dirty!” “It stank of gas!” “The material was cheap!” “It was a peasant outfit!”

  “The first two reasons were good reasons! So clean it and bring it back!”

  “Um. We burned it, your Highness. It seemed so hard to clean and so beneath you…”

  “Burned it? At the very least why did you not clean it and save it to give away to charity?”

  “Oh, I’m very sorry, your Highness. Yes, an anonymous donation to the poor would have been very gracious of you. We are so terribly sorry that…”

  Chloë screamed and they all recoiled in terror. Chloë tried counting to ten and tried again, “I want all of you to stop running at the mouth. Choose your words carefully and sparsely. I want a new dress, and I want it now. I want something simple that I can walk around in without worries.”

  “Like a garden dress, your Highness?”

  “Excellent choice. Now why do I need eight people to help me put on a dress? Am I infirm? Ill? Feeble?”

  “There was concern that you would be unwell after your exposure to the gas and an uneven series of meals, your Highness.”

  Chloë sighed, “Okay, I’m doing quite well, but I do confess that I am, in fact, hungry. My guess is my dearest of dear friends, Lady Heather, will likewise be hungry… as always!” she laughed. Chloë gritted her teeth at the blank expressions looking back at her and then just sighed, “Plan accordingly. Lunch for two. How many of you know the Old Tongue?”

  The last drew a series of blank and astonished looks and one feeble, “I have studied through Block 4, your Highness.” The rest seemed to at most have taken a single class.

  “Okay, ladies, consider learning the Old Tongue your task and duty when I am not around. Now… who is running this ship?”