Lord of the Sky (The Young Ancients: Timon) (37 page)

When it turned on, it wasn't his voice at all however, but Maria's.

"Patricia? I need your help. You and Timon both. Regarding our new friends?"

Timon got it first.

"Stop talking, there are other people here, and while I trust them, they don't know the whole story."

Maria went silent, actually doing what he said, while Trice collected herself.

"Uh, alright. We can talk later. I'll connect back with you. In a few hours?"

"Thank you."

Then the line dropped.

It was one of those funny situations, because he knew for a fact that everyone in the room recognized the voice, but everyone pretended not to. It was fine with Gerent, since he knew that a lot of things weren't his personal business, but Collette was probably going to be a problem later. After all, it was
her
trouble making sister on the line, wasn't it?

Trice looked genuinely embarrassed by the whole scene, which might have just been an act. After all, it was just someone trying to talk to them. Yes, Maria was thought to be a traitor, again, but Collette probably had enough sense to figure things out, even if she lacked a bit of the needed information. Timon didn't really feel much of anything about it at all, personally.

Not even interest in what the problem was. It would probably be annoying and ultimately useless.

"Well, that was strange. Now, tell us more about the garden plans Gerent, so that we know where to build the wall that we're going to have." He could design something for it, he was certain. It was a new build, and no one had done it yet, but only because it wasn't the kind of thing that came up very often for most people. It really wouldn't even be that hard, since he already knew how to make similar things. The houses had walls, he just needed to free them from the rest of the structure and change the textures a bit.

They talked about that, awkwardly and with too much tension, for about twenty minutes, until Collette made polite sounding excuses for them to leave. Gerent was good at taking a hint, so stood instantly and made a point of shaking Timon's hand. That was the kind of thing people from the country did, and he started to realize that when they shook. Trice made a face to let the smaller man know about it, but Collette simply watched, as if it couldn't be more normal.

Timon just did it, because that's what you did when a hand was offered by a friend or family member.

Collette hugged him on the way out, her lips coming close to his ear. Instead of whispering something, she just kissed his cheek and stood back up, the scent of her perfume lingering for a moment. It wasn't strong, but left a nice hint of flowers to the air.

"I don't know what my sister has in mind for the two of you, but be careful. She keeps managing to involve herself in dangerous things and then needing to be rescued. You aren't your brother Timon. Remember that she's an adult and can take care of her own messes." She left them, her hand resting gently on Gerent's arm, which required her to reach down more than a bit.

As soon as the door shut Trice made a sour face, still staring at it, like it had wronged her personally.

"You aren't
Tor
? That's kind of a snotty thing for her to say, isn't it? What did she mean by that?"

Taking a deep breath he thought about it and remembered a conversation that Collette and he had once, not that long ago, a few months before, back when no one had tortured him at all and his biggest worry had been that people seemed to compare him to his older brother too often. Like that mattered now?

"I think she was suggesting that I wasn't a slave. That I could be my own person, and didn't have to jump to everyone else's whim, if I didn't want to." He shrugged, since that was only one interpretation of what she'd said. "That or she thinks I'm not good enough to handle things. One or the other. Really, I don't care. The advice is good enough really and something we should both remember. Maria is alright, but we don't have to run off and do her biding just because she asks."

That sounded a little sullen for some reason, and Trice ignored his words, or at least seemed to, walking back to the sitting room and reaching for her communications device, hitting the sigil with a tap, then sitting down to wait. Most of the time it could take five minutes or longer for someone to notice the glow of the devices, but this time it picked up instantly, the Countess clearly waiting for them.

"Patricia? Is it safe to talk now?" She didn't sound all that worried really, just a bit rushed.

"Unless someone has figured out how to listen to these communications. Collette and Gerent came to visit. They send their love." It wasn't anything that had been said at all, but it got a low and sultry laugh from the device in his wife's hand.

"Oh? I didn't know they were close enough to be out visiting together.
Intriguing
. Well, good for her. She deserves someone kind. Normally I'd tease her, because he's a bit short and strange looking, but to be fair, I'm not certain I wouldn't take a chance with him myself. Good looking can be over-rated." She stopped talking for a bit and finally sighed.

"If it's really safe, I need to pass a message then."

Timon spoke, not caring that it might be rude. If she didn't want him to know about whatever it was, she should have mentioned it already. How else was Trice supposed to know to hide it from him?

"Go. It should be safe, unless Count Lairdgren or Tor have decided to break into things. In that case the King will be listening, but..." Well, they were working with the man, weren't they? No one on the rebellion's side could have done it, he didn't think. Maybe they had a builder or two with them? They lived all over the place and most people just got along in the world by not going against their local leadership. The odds that they'd have cracked the communications network were small. Most wouldn't have thought about it yet. Then it would take months or even years for people to learn how Tor had created the things.

Maria sounded confused.

"Count Lairdgren? How would he have done that, by ordering Tor to..."

Timon looked up at the ceiling and counted to ten inside his head. Trice looked at him funny, but didn't ask why he was doing it out loud. It was just implied in her facial expression.

"Burks Green is the
Green man
of legend Maria. He invented the system of magic we use. Underestimating him is a poor plan all the way around. Just because he doesn't flaunt his power isn't a sign that he can't do pretty much whatever he wants. Plus, he really could have asked Tor to do it. I doubt that he'd push him around with orders. Still, Tor could crack the system in about an hour, I'd guess. I
might
be able to do it, but it wouldn't be that fast at all." It would have taken too long to explain just how complex everything had gotten to the women, but thankfully she adapted quickly. It probably meant she was smarter than he'd thought.

"I see. Well, we got a messenger from Baron Eager. As they were leaving yesterday, just on the border of Ward and Printer, the flying transport they were on was stopped. Countess Printer's forces have taken Wallace and are going to question him. The others managed to flee, but he was taken, trying to allow them to escape. The Baron doesn't have the forces needed to go and recapture his boy, we don't think, but he knows just enough to make it worth torturing him. Marvin and I were asked to help, but..." She stopped talking then.

There were a lot of good reasons to go and help, including that the young man could give information about them, which wouldn't harm their reputation with the King, but might with other people. Also, he was largely blameless, just following along with what his father wanted. Wallace would have been just as happy meeting girls and learning to play an instrument at school.

On the other side of things it was clear that doing anything would take them into conflict with Holly Printer, and the woman shared a border with the Wards. If they sent an army in to get the kid, then the Countess would know, and that would create hard feelings.

So, of course, they needed to get it done without anyone knowing about it. Hopefully before the boy started telling everyone all their secrets.

Trice, not seeming all that happy about the whole thing, sighed.

"Crap. Do we know where he is?"

"Yes, there's a small guard station on the south side of Printer that has a jail. It's ten miles away from the city itself, so it's isolated enough. We don't know who's there however. Wallace is for certain, but the numbers of men on the ground aren't something that Baron Eager could share with us. He and his men are planning to try and rescue his son, but they need a way of escaping, if they succeed. We were asked to see if you'd do it Tim. The letter didn't mention you Patricia. I don't think the King's niece is all that trusted yet, in certain circles."

She made a face, but then let it turn into a smile, still having a sense of humor it seemed.

"I can see that. I don't suppose that the Baron remembered to mention what he was willing to pay for this service? Timon isn't a rebel after all, he's a mercenary."

"I am?"

"Sure. You told the King
himself
that you were working for whoever paid you. This certainly seems to be the case here, doesn't it?"

"That's a point. Maria?"

"Um, no. Nothing in the letter. Marvin and I will cover it. Say five hundred gold? It's just for a pick up and a trip to friendly territory. If you do it right no one will ever know you were there."

Brilliant. Things like that
always
went right, didn't they?

"We'll see to it. Is there some kind of sign that we're supposed to use? Otherwise finding them isn't going to happen in the dark."

"They have a pink light. That's all the paper says."

Because that made it simple. He wanted to growl and tell them not to expect him, but there was gold to be made, and Wallace hadn't seemed like he deserved to be tortured for information. Hopefully Holly was above such things personally, but that didn't mean those working for her might not do it without asking, if they thought it would work. It was half the reason nobles had minions, to do the unpleasant things for them.

"Fine. Five hundred gold. Spread that around a bit, will you? I don't want people thinking that I'm doing this for free."

Maria sounded happier then, but only a bit.

"Done. Timon? Be careful. I don't want to have to explain to your parents how I got you killed. I doubt that I'd survive that."

Trice snorted once, a very unladylike sound.

"No doubt. We'll handle this."

She cut the line, and then stood, expecting them to leave instantly. Timon followed her to the back, moving into his larger craft and causing it to turn the same color as the sky, a deep black with just a hint of blue and gray to make it seem fuzzy at the edges.

Then he got in, Trice moving along with him, her clothing turning into fighting leathers, like it was a combat mission. He stuck with black velvet himself. He flew people places, that was all. Neither of them said anything until they were in the air and headed toward the east coast full speed. He could find Printer, in the dark, but the odds of locating a small group of people in the night weren't great at all.

He had weapons, of course. Good ones that would have made him the equal of a small battle group, if he were inclined to things like that. Explosives and heavy force lances that could kill an unarmored man. Mentally he went over what he had, then checked to make certain Trice was armed too.

"Of course. They can have my weapons over their broken and bleeding corpses. I learned that one the hard way. Never let yourself be unarmed. No one that wants your weapons has your best interest at heart."

Timon nodded.

"Agreed." They both knew the others story, well enough at least. They didn't have to go over it all again.

This situation would be harder for her than him, Timon thought. Wallace was in a jail, like she and Gerent had been. As long as the torture hadn't started yet, Tim thought he'd be fine. It was scary, but that wouldn't be too big of a thing for him to handle. It was just a pick-up after all. As long as there were no Larval Assassins or giant women trying to cut bits and pieces off of the man.

"You know, I..." Timon didn't have a clue how to say what he really wanted to. That life wasn't fair was a known thing to him. No one could doubt that it was anything else, could they? It wasn't right that he had to have most of the good things stripped from his life at such a young age. It shouldn't happen to anyone, and yet, there is was. It pressed down on him all the time now, tearing at his soul, wearing him into something that didn't really have a reason for being.

The shape of a man, like a shadow, without the substance.

Trice looked over at him her face unreadable in the dark, her outline showing against the window that wrapped around, so that it was both in front and to the far side of her.

"What?"

"Never mind. I was just going to whine about being me. This should be fun. I lay better than even odds that we don't find anything at all when we get there. We'll probably spend the whole night flying around, imagining pink glows under every tree and bush. Five gold on it?"

There was a soft laugh from the passenger's seat.

"No deal. That has the ring of prophecy to it. We should swing by and get Marvin and Maria, so that they can entertain us as we search. Believe it or not, he's a decent singer."

They managed to keep up a steady stream of small talk then, which meant they could avoid anything real or hard. The past was best kept there, behind them. He knew it was true, but things kept bringing it back for him.

When they got close it was surprisingly easy to find the right place. Ten miles outside Printer there was a burning building, and to the south of that, about two miles, in a clearing, was a nice bright pink light. It was a colored oil lamp, Timon thought, the kind with a lens on it, and not magical like he'd figured it would be, but it worked pretty well.