Lord of the Sky (The Young Ancients: Timon) (38 page)

Trice pointed.

"There we go. Darn, I should have taken the bet. Well, we still have to land and make sure it's them. I can't tell if there's anyone coming. Shields on."

Timon nodded, even as he lowered the craft slowly, so that anyone under them could get out of the way. He was away from the lamp, but that didn't mean anything about who was standing where. If it was him, he'd have set the light and moved off as far as he could, so that if anyone came that shouldn't have, he wouldn't be caught.

They climbed out, and both pulled weapons, just in case.

"Countier Baker?" The voice was hushed a bit, but Baron Eager still used his name. "Over here!"

The man didn't move much, but stood in the glow of the bright lamp. There was a clutch of people with him. His wife, who seemed worried, the four guardsmen, and Wallace, who looked scared, but not like he'd been being raped or beaten too much. There could be bruising, but he stood relatively straight and seemed to be able to move on his own.

Timon closed with them, realizing that there were others there too. People dressed in uniform, that were sitting on the ground, tied up. Three of them. Trice pointed.

"Fuck. You took
prisoners
? What do you think you're going to do with them. You said his
name
."

That wasn't good, but the fact of the matter was that he could probably weather that.

The Baron didn't seem apologetic, which was in keeping with his personality, but not that great to hear.

"They know who all of us are. The woman recognized me when we stormed the jail. They hadn't known who Wallace was before that, just that he matched a description. We set the building on fire, to cover the escape, but now we have a problem. If they can't report, then we don't have to run from our home. Otherwise Countess Printer will probably have an issue with us. That can't be allowed... Still..."

There was a hiss from Timon's wife then, a low and angry thing that held more than a bit of contempt.

"Damn it. What kind of moron are you? Do you think you can keep three people prisoner forever? If one of them escapes the whole thing is up. What are you going to do, kill them? That's the only way now. Of all the stupid..."

That caused a bit of a problem. Not the name calling, which the Baron actually ate pretty well, all things considered. No, it was that, even though the path was fairly clear as to what had to be done, no one really wanted to actually do the dirty work.

Part of that had to do with the woman that they'd collected, who sat between the two men, her face scared in the pink glow.

"Please, sir, we won't say anything. I have children. Dar here, his wife is expecting. We can leave... No one will know anything. I swear it." Then she cried. It was pitiful.

The others argued about what to do, but it was clear the whole time. There was no real choice. Not unless they wanted to turn themselves in.
Timon
would be fine and so would Trice, but Wallace and his parents were dead if they were found out. Only one of them probably deserved it. Worse, if they were found out, then everyone would know that he and Trice were playing both sides.
Until
the King stepped in to clear them. Then the Wards would be in danger, since their being cleared for now hinged on the magical device they supposedly used to prove they meant it when they swore fealty. The one that he'd made.

The idea that this could be used to bind the higher ups of the rebellion to them was lost on Timon either, but he felt a flash of emotion that he didn't recognize fully. It was a dark thing that hurt a bit, before he managed to ignore it for a few moments.

"Right." He had an explosive weapon in his right hand and used it, killing the three relatively innocent people instantly. The flesh made a sound that was wet and deep. Everyone stood in shock for a moment when it was done, until the Baroness screamed. It was more of a yelp really, and not that loud.

He shushed her anyway.

"I know it's gross, but this way their heads are gone, so they can't be identified. We need to bury them and get out of here. Move." He sounded old. That and so hard he wouldn't have questioned him at all either. Even the guardsmen did what he told them, getting the Baron and his family on the craft, then helping him to move some dirt. Trice didn't help, just staring at him the whole time, shaking slightly.

He got that. It was a bloody and cold thing that he'd done. Needed for a lot of reasons, but evil too. She'd probably have to hate him now. It was going to make the rest of their wedding vacation tense, no doubt about it.

They didn't have shovels and didn't want to make too much noise, so used a force lance to move the soil and form a hole deep enough to kick the bloody bodies in. One of the guards did all that for them, so no one else would have to. It took a bit, since there were pieces spread out all over the clearing behind where they'd sat. It was going to be pretty clear that something had died there, but as long as no one dug for the bodies, they should stay hidden. Eventually the grass would grow back and no one would be the wiser. The three innocent people would have just vanished one night.

No one said anything about it, not until they shut the lamp off and got on board the craft. The others all sitting around the table in the main section, looking pale and in shock. Timon didn't do more than look at them, moving them out of the area, heading due north, since most of Printer was off in that direction. He didn't know where the Baron needed to go, but if it was home, that would be a good start. Trice didn't speak to him at all. She just sat and hugged herself, not looking at him.

Finally, not long after, the guard that had kept things together well enough to move the bodies came and pointed at a small grouping of lights on the horizon.

"Eagerton. Set down on the far side and we can get them home from there. The Baron wishes to speak to you both before you leave, if that's alright with you, of course." The man was free of facial hair and probably good looking enough really. Tall for a guard, nearing seven feet, which meant somewhere in his background he had a noble relative or two. The hair was blond too. It was too dark to see his eyes, but Timon was willing to bet they wouldn't be brown.

"Right. We should be down in a few minutes. We'll come back."

It made for a tense landing, since whatever the man had to say, Timon doubted it would be fun listening to it. It could be anything, from calling him a monster, to arresting him, or at least trying to. That would cause a fight, since he didn't plan to go with them, and he knew for a fact that he was better armed. Tim would live, as long as the man didn't take off after Trice over it all. It wasn't her fault, the action had been his and really, as horrible as it made him feel, he knew it was the logical thing to do.

After they touched down, with no buildings in sight, but a single lamp glowing in the distance, he stood to go and see to whatever it was. Trice stood up too, and put her hand on his shoulder. There were no words.

When they got to the back everyone had already gone outside and moved away from the door, leaving only the dark haired Baron there, standing already to go down the steps.

He bowed once, holding it for a bit.

"I was suspicious of your intent in this. Both of you. You're actions tonight show you to be what you claimed however. I regret having allowed it to happen in the first place. Thank you for coming when we needed you, and for doing that for us, to protect us all. I won't forget this."

Then he turned, as if to leave, but stopped and tilted his head back toward Trice.

"I heard something, from some friends of mine. People you should meet. They suggested that there might be trouble in Gala soon and your name came up? I don't know any more about that, but I'll look into it for you, if you wish?"

Trice, for all that she still looked pale and almost like she were ill, managed to rally, professionalism taking over.

"Please do. The Baron Gala and his wife the Baroness were both murdered. Their son, Rico, sits in the position now. There was an attack that took place, or so I heard. If he's coming for me, I'd appreciate the warning. It shouldn't be a factor, but Rico Gala isn't a well-balanced person. If your friends are working with him, tell them to be careful. Unpredictable doesn't even begin to cover the situation."

The man nodded, but turned and walked away then, without scolding him at all.

When the hatch was closed and they'd safely taken off, to head back towards the Capital, Trice started crying. It wasn't loud, but Timon could still tell she was doing it.

"I'm so sorry." There was a catch in the middle of it, an inhalation that made the words sound broken and sad. "I got you into this. Made you into a killer, to protect us all."

The words were so odd that he stopped flying and turned to look at her, the craft just hanging in the air.

"Seriously? You're just worried that I'm a
killer
now? You know that I've done that before. Countess Alan? I thought that you were mad at me for taking those innocent people's lives. I'm... feeling that a lot more than I thought I would, but I couldn't think of anything else to do that wouldn't mess things up more. I suppose I could have taken them off to Vagus and left them, but I just realized that now." It would have seemed funny to him, before the changes that Tor had made. That had gotten in his way and kept him from thinking clearly, having these new feelings.

In a very real way, those people had probably died because of that. Him not being able to process things past the new worries that he suddenly had.

The actions were all his however, not his brother's. Blame had to go where it was due.

His wife sobbed again and then wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"No, I'm
not
mad. I would have killed them, eventually. I was kind of hoping that one of the Baron's men would do it for us. They couldn't be let go. It was too dangerous and would have blown our cover. It's something that I've had years to prepare for. Killing like that. You haven't. It wasn't fair of us to make you do that."

There was a moment when he nearly cried himself then. Not because of the deaths of the jailors, he was feeling that now, more strongly than he thought he would, or because of Nora, since she deserved to die. No, it was something else that he'd done and it hit him all at once, ripping through him so hard that he shook, his throat closing for a long time.

It was so bad that Trice actually moved in and held him, cradling him in her arms, like he was a small child that had skinned his knee or something. It hurt worse than that, the guilt of it all crushing him suddenly. Powerfully.

"I... I killed them. All of them. It's my fault."

His wife didn't deny it.

"I saw. It had to be done. I know it was hard."

"No, you don't understand. The healing amulets that Tor made? Everyone was supposed to have them, all the Counties. But I stole the ones that would have gone to the places with treasonous leaders.
I
did it. That means all those people that died, that was me. It's... hundreds of thousands of people at least, by now. Ones that might have lived if it wasn't for me. I didn't just kill a few people. I killed
all
of them."

"Oh. I... I'd heard something like that."

Finally she pulled on him, and they changed seats, so that she could get them back home. She didn't push things, and he didn't let tears fall. In a weird way, he just couldn't. The guilt ate at him and didn't stop, but it wouldn't come out at all. It locked inside of him, folding in and became worse with each mile that passed beneath them. Finally they were able to set down behind the new house.

"We'll need to talk to Uncle Richard about this. Does he know, about the amulets?"

"Oh, yes. Tor knows too. And Petra. Along with about five hundred soldiers... it isn't a secret, it just didn't bother me before. Not that much.
Damn Tor
! Why couldn't he have left me alone? Why did he do this to me?" Timon knew why though, didn't he? It probably had to do with him taking those healing units in the first place.

Trice got up and started to walk away, not answering him. It made some sense. She loved Tor after all. Not him, marriage aside. That wasn't to be expected. He managed to follow and got inside without cursing anyone or making a scene even if there was no one in the night to hear them. Not out where they were.

Inside she turned, looking miserable and closed-off again, holding her arms across her chest.

"I'm going to bed. We can deal with this in the morning? Unless you need me now, I mean." It sounded weak and like she really wanted him to leave her alone. So he let her go, walking up the stairs with her and taking a room down the hallway.

It took some time to arrange it the way he wanted, not really caring at first, but after a nice bed was set up and a tub and shower in the next room, along with a separate restroom, he took a long hot soak and then got into bed himself. Tim felt tired. A bone weary thing that was beyond simply having been up too long. Sleep didn't come, his mind filling with the dead, thinking about all the little kids that he'd choked to death with the Gray plague. Then, once he finally cleared his head of that, he spent time with the three he'd killed earlier that evening.

Timon didn't even know any of their names. Somehow that made it all seem worse. At least when Nora had died there had been a good, and personal, reason for it. The three he'd executed hadn't harmed him or any of his friends, it was just easier to take their lives than it was to risk letting them go.