Lord of the Sky (The Young Ancients: Timon) (15 page)

It was kind of a jerk move for someone to have attacked on Noram Day. Worse, Connor really was just a kid. It spoke of a certain amount of desperation on the other side, doing things like that, didn't it?

King Richard shook his head, but didn't seem displeased.

"We have ground troops for that, based in County Ford. If we could move two hundred of them within three days, that should work. Can you arrange for that? The expense of travel is..."

"A thousand gold. If they can be lined up and ready to go I can fit that many in right now. Or..." He looked at the others and shrugged. "Well, it will strip part of the wedding planning crew, but if Sherri is willing, she can take in a second craft. Terry might do it too, if we aren't going to dump people on the battle line directly. Trice has one as well, so that would be about eight hundred men, if they don't mind packing in kind of tightly." It was the day before their wedding and Trice was, if nothing else, a
girl
. She nodded anyway, which showed that she wasn't that into the idea of getting married to him, in particular. That, or she was actually more concerned about the war than it seemed on the surface.

"Collette has one too..."

"Which is true, but someone has to plan this thing for us, if we're running off like it seems we are." He made himself smile, but the Queen rolled her eyes. The move reminded him of what he did all the time really.

"I think I know how to plan a simple wedding, Timon. Go. See to this and protect our friends. I'll handle this end for you."

He stopped, almost making a snide comment about the Queen sabotaging him on purpose, out of spite, but realized that he had to at least pretend that his Aunt wouldn't do that to him, even if she actually did it.

"That makes sense. Can we have those men standing by? We can be there in... Call it thirty minutes? That way we can all take off from here and move as a group. Sherri first, then Collette, Trice and myself. Terry will have to meet us there. One moment." He had his new style communications device, but his younger brother didn't own one. His mother did, so he made the connection and didn't sugar coat what he wanted.

"It's dangerous, but should be safe enough. Strictly a pick up and drop off for all of us. Do you think he's up to it?" That was a dangerous question to ask her, but a slightly high pitched voice came from the unit then, which was his sister Tara, if he had it right.

"I can come too. I have one of your craft, and said I would."

It probably would have been an argument then, but Timon didn't have time for that.

"Not this time, Sis. Terry knows how to fly a Fast Craft and you need lessons first. Next time, if it's as safe as this one, you can go." That made it sound like his little brother was actually qualified to fly off right then, but it wasn't really the truth.
Tim was the only one that had controlled one of his new vehicles yet, after all. It wasn't hard, but the things were going to have to be big on the second leg of the journey, which would change things a lot, especially on the landing.

His mother didn't argue the point, not exactly.

"I suppose. Can you have him back by tonight?"

Timon thought about it and looked at the device in his hand, the bright letters that said Lauralie Baker at the top of the list of names.

"No. He can stay here, and be ready for the events tomorrow." If they were holding the wedding then. It made sense, even if it was just a few people standing around and a cleric of some kind. "He can stay at Tor's Palace here. That's a treat, if nothing else. Or he can sleep in his new craft. They have beds."

It took five minutes, but his brother was brought in to talk to him and was actually gone from Two Bends before he and the others were in the air at all. Like he'd planned, he went last into the sky, but took the lead to the military base. It was nice to have the thing to himself. He left it small for the trip out, as did everyone else, but Trice made hers jet black, which had gotten Collette to go with a bright and happy looking pink color. Slowly, as if not able to decide what she wanted, Sherri reworked hers to have a sky blue color, which nearly made it invisible. It was a good idea really. He left his silver, since this first part of the trip wouldn't require hiding.

The trip over took about twenty minutes, since it wasn't that far, only being a little over three hundred miles. It was close to the ocean, the military base being made mainly of older wooden buildings, the rampart wall around it made of smoothed logs. A palisade, Timon thought it was called. Its main function was to keep drunken soldiers from wandering into the town that was nearby at night, no doubt. It should work, if they didn't have flying gear.

They hovered over the large space where the men in black were lined up. It was made of dirt, and looked like it had been packed by years of men walking and marching on it. That left it uneven and with strange divots in places, but Ford was a dry area most of the time, so it wasn't a mud pit at the moment.

He moved in slowly, settling on the far right, and making his craft grow before Trice could settle in, so that she knew to leave enough room for him. It was like a decently large building suddenly springing into place.

Trice was smart and well educated in many ways, as well as used to thinking before taking action, so she followed suit, which meant Collette and Sherri both managed to do the same thing. It left a space for Terry, who was coming into view in a dull gray craft, already pushed to the largest size just in time to see where they were setting up. He had to move into place really carefully, but child or not, he did it perfectly, just as Tim set up a ramp door on the back, so that the men could load their gear and themselves. He left the back open, with no chairs or anything else, other than a restroom.

"Go! Get your assess on the boat! We have a mission. Two hundred per ship. Go!" The deep voiced man that was screaming didn't seem all that old, and wasn't anyone that he'd ever seen before, but this was the right place, and the men weren't taking all that long, actually running into place with their packs. It took a minute for the rest of them to work out how to open a back hatch and Sherri had hers with a full complement of soft seats for the men, which had to be removed, but that just took a jog over to see what was holding them up and a gentle suggestion to the girl to have fixed.

The big shouting man moved over to him and saluted, which he didn't do back. Then he did the same with Trice and Collette, sort of waving to Sherri and Terry. It was clear he didn't know who exactly was in charge. Thankfully that didn't matter really.

Timon nodded once and waved at the mostly loaded craft.

"The trip will take about two hours. It isn't the most comfortable way to travel, but we have restrooms on board or should..." He called that out and all the pilots nodded, standing near the back of their vessels. "Sorry, we didn't bring snacks this time. The plan is for us to take you in, find a spot near where the battles lines are, but far enough away to be safe and set you down. No battle support except running away if you need it. You can ride with me so you have some say as to where you want to set down. The rest know to follow us." Plus, he could call several of them. He really needed to get Terry a communications device too. Right then. He had some spares that Tor hadn't noticed him wandering off with. That, or the more likely situation was that Tor had noticed him loading them all up, but hadn't cared. They were for sale after all, and it didn't matter who did the work that way.

"I'm Major Derring. No title." The words weren't gruff, just a bit flat, as if he was offended by being saddled with a little boy.

"Timon Baker. Countier Lairdgren." Normally he wouldn't bother with titles himself, but the man needed to know who to blame if things went wrong, didn't he?

"How long will it take to get going?"

"About three minutes I think. Let's get the back hatches closed up." He yelled the words, but ran into his craft, finding his luggage and pulling the device for Terry. Then, as he hurried across the courtyard or whatever it was called, he set the device to have his name ready to go and handed the thing to Terry before he could get inside.

"Just hit this bar here to speak to me. If it starts to glow that means you're being contacted by someone. For now, don't do that unless something happens or you need help."

Then he had to sprint back to his craft, to find the Major glaring at him, as if he were wasting time.

"If we can go now?" The man had a mustache and was thin, but tall. Kind of like King Richard or Alphonse, except with very dark brown hair and lighter skin. Darker than Timon, but almost eight feet tall, which meant clear noble blood in his heritage, even if he couldn't claim a title.

He didn't answer, just taking off and hovering in place, waiting for the others to do the same. Terry was up in the air first, followed by Trice. The other two took a bit, nearly a minute. Then, slowly, Tim set off in the right direction, making sure they had space between them. You didn't want to run Fast Craft too close together after all. It would have been nice to explain this to everyone, but they all managed it well enough anyway. Either it was just common sense, or the craft were so evenly matched that going full speed meant they couldn't close with one another. He sort of thought it was that last one, but didn't mention anything about it. Or speak. The man next to him was clearly worried and a bit of a grump, so that worked for him well enough.

There was a low and slightly excited murmur from the back, the men actually having a lot of room, even with their gear. They probably could have had two and a half times more bodies in there without anyone touching at all. This way they could actually stretch and lie down, if they wanted.

Major Derring looked around after about an hour and then patted the arm rest of his seat.

"How much longer, do you think?"

It almost even sounded gentle, as if the man realized that Timon wasn't in his unit or something. If so that was perceptive of the fellow.

"At this pace..." He had to look out the window, but they weren't over anything that made a great landmark. That meant something to him, since it meant they were past Rosslyn already. "A little over an hour, if we don't get lost or have to jockey for position too much. I know the way, so that shouldn't be a problem. No way to know the current situation on the ground... Or, actually, see that communications unit?" He looked at it, since his right hand was in use. "If you could hand it to me, we might be able to manage something that way."

The man looked skeptical, but then looked out the window in front of him and made a considering face. Handing the device over, Timon worked it with his left hand. No one that he knew of in Rochester had one yet, but they'd communicated with the Barony somehow, which was probably through Countess York. Timon knew the lady well enough to just get in touch and ask. That would require the other, older style device, he thought.

Except right there, near the end of the list, was a
Countier
York. That had to be someone that Tor knew then, or a school boy.

The man that answered wasn't the second one, from the sound of it. Not unless he'd failed a whole lot of classes over the years, since he was clearly a full grown man.

"York here."

"This is Tim Baker, here with Major Derring." Before he could explain the man shouted.

"The incoming forces are in contact! General, the King's forces are..." There was noise, rushing wind and a thump that meant the unit had been tossed to someone else, that meant another man was speaking after a few seconds.

"How many are coming? We're in active battle here, along the southern line. It looks like a mixed group of forces, about five thousand of them, but they're all very well armed and shielded. We only have about six hundred shielded troops. Our forces are being slaughtered here. Both the York and Rochester forces are barely holding. We thought the thing was a bit more equal based on numbers, but they have us two to one on Elites. Any assistance would be good."

The Major practically barked into the device, pulling it from Tim's hand, reaching over the arm he was steering with, bumping it hard enough to send the craft skittering sideways. It was just perceptible and the giant didn't seem to notice.

"A thousand ground troops, all with top weapons and shields, about an hour out from your position, coming by air. Can you hold on that long?"

"No choice. There's a town at our back, and I won't let it be overrun. They came in so fast that..."

Tim blocked out the conversation for a moment, trying to think if anything he could do would help. Other than putting the men in the right place, the answer was honestly no. He could send the Fast Craft into the battle line maybe, but that would be risking his pilots. That wasn't happening. They were his people, and just hired for a transport job.

The men talked until the General, who was named York as well, saw them. They didn't have a signaling device, but the man stood with his hands in the air, waving for a bit, which let him get oriented. It wasn't on the battle line, being outside the town on a hill instead, about a mile away from the fighting. It was a bit too close for his personal comfort, but he hovered in the large clearing behind the man by about a quarter mile and settled there. It wasn't perfect, but even as the Major was growling at him to get closer, he didn't push the issue too much.

"Sorry, this is as close as we can get safely. As soon as we get down, I'll open the back. Tell the men not to move until all five craft are down."