Envoy to Earth (10 page)

Gerent didn't know what to say to
that, but Petra and Collette both accepted, without hesitation. So he smiled
and did the same, figuring that one of them would let him know if they weren't
supposed to eat, or excuse themselves until after the food was done. That, or
only eat apples.

Except, when they got inside,
they were taken to a finely decorated room with a large focus stone table that
matched the outside of the place, but was done in deep green inside. There were
accents of black as well, the walls being covered in fine material and hard
wood. Sitting near the front of the table was a very pretty girl that looked to
be about sixteen or so. They'd met before, and she was taller now, but it was
the same woman.

Princess Veronica Cordes.
Countess Peterson, too, as far as that went. She stood and came around the
table, hugging Petra hard.

"There you are! I see that
you finally came to visit. Good. Are you staying? Or... No, you have your work,
I suppose. I have to admit, things have been a bit slow for me here for a
while. I read and sleep, with only a little work in the garden to pass the time.
Trust me, no one lets me actually dirty my hands either." She let the
embrace go and stood back, looking at Collette first, smiling. "Baronetta
Coltress! So good of you to come. Please, everyone, sit. I..." She looked
at him, her face fine, and at least as pretty as Collette, if not more so. A
bit like Tiera or even Tor, though Gerent would never have mentioned that
second part. The man was sensitive about his looks, being too pretty like he
was.

She didn't call out his name, and
also didn't ask. Her husband didn't offer the information either. After a
minute she shook her head, and seemed to be measuring something with her eye. His
face, to be exact.

"Gerent?"

He nodded. "That's right. I
didn't know if you'd remember me. Things were...
different
the last time
we met to talk to one another."

That had been a grand total of
three words, since that time she'd been whisked out of the room for something
the instant he got there. He'd also still been pretty small then, and lumpy in
places. She actually sighed and shook her head.

"Yes. I'd gotten some rather
dire news at the time. Plus some other changes. You look good. So, sit,
everyone. What would you like? I managed to get Queen Tiera to gift me one of
her incredible food devices. Not that it took begging, mind. I just mentioned
that it would be
nice
, and she packed me off with one. I feel badly that
the rest of the people here have to eat all those steaks and apples, but I'm
still not letting go of it. We
do
use it for spices and some other
things for the men, between meals."

That was actually nice of her,
wasn't it? He thought so, and no one mentioned otherwise. The food that came
was a lot more varied than what they'd had before, and the idea seemed to be
that they better eat. It wasn't hard for him, but he had to wonder about the
others. During the meal they actually talked about gardens, since that was
something that he knew a little bit about. Veronica smiled at him a lot. Finally,
Count Peterson cleared his throat, and explained why that was exactly.

They were subtly trying to get on
his good side.

"We... Hear that Tor left
his properties to you in his absence? We have a deal, using this base in
exchange for planting the Wildlands, but in the last months we've sort of run
out of things to plant. I don't suppose that you're here to collect those taxes
in arrears, are you?" There was a slow but steady tone to the words, as if
it would actually be the expected reason for just showing up like he had.

"No. There will be more need
to plant, later. That part isn't over yet at all. This is just a break in
things. Gardening, even on a big scale, is like that. There are seasons and
times when it's best to just wait, so it won't change anything, tax wise. We
actually came to see you about something else. Um, not to be rude, but it's a
bit, eh... Delicate?" He was trying to hint that Veronica leave, or that
they did, but while she stood, it was only to wave them all to follow her into
a room down the hall.

No one else seemed to think it
was odd even. As if the young girl leading them to the private conversation was
simply what had always been intended. Gerent didn't know if that was right or
not, but as soon as they were in place, Petra spoke, her face looking a little
miserable.

"We... Well, Gerent figured
out that I was... raped... by Will's men, when they took me. I hid it, for the
obvious reason, and now he and Collette feel that Marvin needs to be placated.
Even though we aren't telling him about it. Since we can't touch William over
it, they want to find the men that did it and punish them." It was a
short, and if not sweet, then at least efficient, explanation. The reactions
from the other two were both different.

Count Peterson growled, clenched
his big right hand into a tight fist and seemed ready to kill some people.
Veronica simply nodded.

"I'd wondered about that.
You kept using almost the exact same phrase each time. 'No rape, thank
goodness, that was the only mercy'. No one says things that way. We should
question Rodriguez about that again. No one mentioned it coming up during his
torture and close questioning. I don't think he would have survived it, if he'd
ordered it done and it were found out. Timon exiled two of the guards already,
and they're believed to be dead. In Afrak." She paced a little, the room
bare of even carpeting. It had a sturdy door, and what were probably several
feet of thick focus stone walls, ceiling and floor.

It was a medium sized place, but
there had been steps going up into it,
inside
the room. The ceiling was
lower than in the hallway, which meant that it was a lot tighter inside than it
would have seemed from outside. Fifteen feet square, perhaps. The inside was
barren, except for a single glowing magical light on the far wall. That had a
glowing nimbus around it, and looked like a large emerald about the size of his
hand. It was pretty, but a bit overdone, in the otherwise empty place. Who put
giant gems on the walls like that? For that matter, who had them just laying
around to use as a lamp?

Collette, out of her depth in
rank or not, took over then, knowing the plan as well, if not better, than any
of them.

"The idea is to hunt these
men down. Then we'll punish them in a way that will leave no doubt about it
having been done. What we really want is you, Count Peterson. The feeling is
that Marvin will respect this more, if his peers saw to it. It might be a good
idea if you help too, Princess. We don't want this to become a rift between
Ward and the Kingdom, later."

There was a gentle nod then, at
least. One that had the girl staring a bit at Petra. Like they shared a secret.
Probably more than one, Ger figured. No one spoke for a while, so he did.

"Yeah. We want you, Count
Peterson, and Judy Kerry, if not her Countess Printer, because I know that
I'd
freak if either of them were coming for me. We're going to also try for Count
Thomson and his wife. My sister, Tamerlane." It was so odd, saying that
out loud, but no one insisted on the
adopted
part of things.

Rather than claim that Terlee was
too small and frail to send after such beasts as they were planning to do, the
man just looked fierce and grinned with a slightly manic expression.

"Both are good fighters. Not
that we'll need them. Gerent and I could go and take them this night, if you
wish, Conserina Ward? We won't let this stand." He seemed ready at the
moment, but his wife put a hand out and shook her head, almost imperceptibly.

"You
could
, of
course, husband. That isn't in doubt. Or we could send the lowest private on
the base, which would be as efficient and give them a real mission. The point
however, I think, if I have this right, is for a large enough group to show
faith with Ward in this, that when Marvin is told about it, we can deliver
proof that he does not, in fact, have to further destroy a portion of the land
to see justice done. I admit, I'm too faint of heart for that portion of what
will be needed. Taking the signs of true repentance that will be doubtless
required. I also imagine that cousin Tamerlane and Collette might be as well.
Petra, well, you're a warrior by nature, but if it does not harm your honor, it
would be best if these others did the actual work that way."

It took a bit for him to
understand what the woman was saying, but Gerent thought he had it, only about
two minutes after the rest of them were moving on in the conversation. Not
really that long at all, but he was clearly behind the rest of them. This
wasn't about truly delicate sensibilities, though that too no doubt, but rather
that she, the Princess of the realm, figured that Counts, Countess's or their
proxies should do this by their own hands. As proof that they won't let their
fellow's sister be abused. Short of backing him in war, it was about as close
to proving loyalty as could be gotten.

Gerent snorted, which was the
wrong sound, but then he smiled to cover it.

"We just need to get the
King to come along too then. Or at least someone to stand for him. I'd have
invited Alphonse, but he can't attend right now, thanks to some moron making
the world impossible for him and the others to live in right now." It was
clearly the wrong thing to say, since everyone glared at him. All of them,
including the Count.

Before Gerent could add that he
was certain the King would attend in his own person, if they could allow it,
the giant roared at him, seeming angry suddenly.

"No! I will
not
stand
and listen to you denigrate yourself like that! You did what no one else could
have, and ended a battle that we were ill prepared to fight. Our best armies
would have been spent unto death and utter destruction with nothing to show for
it save bodies, if not for you, sir! Again, I say, I will not have it!"

Gerent bowed, since he didn't
particularly want to be beaten, if it was all the same.

"Bad habit. I'll try not to
do that, in the future. Sorry."

The man smiled, his features
going very polite, just as fast as they'd turned mean and hard.

"See to that. As for King
Richard... In most cases I would agree, but given the situation, perhaps we
should at least arrange for him to have a hand in this? That... is fair
thinking. The rebellion, well half of them are simply sore that Richard has
ruled against them from time to time in various projects or votes. Seeing him
as standing for right, no matter the state of the climate, that might well
assuage some of their ire." The words were a bit rough in accent, but were
well educated.

Gerent looked at him, envying for
a moment whatever teaching he'd gotten that had allowed him to make speeches
like that. His, even when he aped the stereotype of the dandy noble, tended to
be a little simple. He used what big words he knew, but this man had simply been
talking like that. It was impressive in a way that no one else there would even
be able to see, he bet. They all did that kind of thing, all the time.

He bowed to the Princess and then
the Count, doing it pretty close to right, with his right arm folded across his
middle.

"If you are with us in this,
then we need to be off to find the next on the list. Count Thomson, I think? I
don't know where Captain Kerry is at the moment. When I pick up my ship from
Tiera I should be able to get her however. We leave tonight. Midnight, after
dinner with King Richard, and his Lady Queen." Stopping himself, he wanted
to take the words back.

His Lady Queen? That was
literally from a street performance and not proper etiquette. It wasn't even
close to being correct. Veronica covered for him, by stepping in with a hug.

"Very good, cousin. We stand
ready to your word. Dear husband, are you traveling with them to Thomson? A
show of support might sway them, or at least let them know that we stand by
right." That got her a hug from the giant and the rest of them almost
pushed out the door by the man. They took off from in front of the place, after
Gerent made his craft about twice as big inside. The giant simply needed a
bigger seat than the rest of them did.

It wasn't the plan, but Count
Peterson had, it was clear, been raised with a military mindset. He didn't
dither, or wait, once the plan was set, simply helping to map out how to travel
most directly to their destination. He even had a map of the whole land on him,
in his pocket. All Gerent had was a bunch of magic, and some letters.

Who carried a map like that on
their person, just as a matter of course? The military commander of the Flyer's
Corps, was the answer. It really helped too, since he could use one of the big
mountains as a land mark, then follow roughly north-west until they found the
river that it was set on. It was easy, with a guide for it. Gerent had been
near the area before, but never actually in Thompsonville. It was different
than a lot of the other cities he'd seen. The streets were broad, and made of
focus stone, but most of the vehicles were actually floating, even if they
pulled huge wagons with timber on them.

Tam-craft. Little things that moved
just above the ground, at no more than a hundred miles per hour. That was much
faster than a horse could do the same work, or even a team of eight. What was
truly different was just how many there were. Hundreds, all working at
different tasks, busily rushing hither and yon. The lanes were huge too. Bigger
than the streets of the Capital by nearly four times, and there seemed to be
special lanes set aside for those that wanted to use horses.

Collette pointed out the front
window.

"There, the walled keep?
That's Tovey's place." It was big, and made of stone, like a castle. It
actually had a moat around the whole thing. Outside the wall. There were little
windmills on the water, lazily turning their blades, as a gentle breeze moved
along the wall. Feeling daring not being his normal state, Ger settled outside
of that and got out, to walk up to the gate. Everyone else followed along,
including Boxy. He hadn't been talking to the case at least, but it came with
him and had been, all day. It was comforting, really. You couldn't
buy
that kind of loyalty either. Not until he got Debbie some replacement stock for
her shop.