Envoy to Earth (11 page)

There was a gate guard, because
this was the household of a Count, and even if it was punishable by death, some
people seemed to be willing to give killing them a try now and again. It was a
bit odd, but when they got to the two men, both in dark blue uniforms with
funny round white hats, Petra gently pushed him forward. To speak for them all.

The guard beat him to it, since
he was clearly taking too long. Cheerily however. This was the older fellow on
the right hand side, who held a board with paper attached. There was writing on
it too. Upside down, so he didn't have a clue what it might say.

"Hello! We saw you coming
in. Welcome."

"Thank you. We were
wondering if it would be possible to have an audience with Count Thomson?
Countess Thomson, too, if she's willing? Um, I'm Gerent Lairdgren..." Then
he introduced everyone else, as the man kept smiling, and nodding along.
Clearly thinking he was joking.

"Pull the other one now,
sir! Gerent Lairdgren is a
halfling
, no taller than a peasant
child." He held out his right hand, holding it low, to demonstrate. It was
a tad too close to the ground, but he nodded.

"That used to be true, but
you know, the Wizard Tor as an adopted brother. So I get to be taller
now." That was probably too hard to sell, even to a man that lived in a
city filled with floating craft made by a tiny girl. Cute blue and yellow
things that shined a bit.

The man didn't seem to think he
was telling the truth, but still called for the butler, who jogged out, his
face in a fixed, but very polite grimace. When he spoke he sounded scandalized
at least.

"Count Peterson! Forgive our
guard here. I'd claim he was new, but Wilson has been around longer than I
have. We'll have him flogged immediately for his insolence."

Then there was bowing and a bit
of an apology, though still not directed his way. Gerent didn't mind that much.
When Peterson started to insist on it, an apology for Gerent, he put out his
hand, getting the huge fellow to stop.

"Wait, I'm
not
going
to start being insulted by people thinking I'm too
tall
. It just isn't
happening. Besides, it's not like this man, Wilson, and I have met before, now
next
time..."

It was funny, but the Count just
glared at him a little, then walked in, led by the butler. It wasn't until they
got to the door that he realized the big man was gently laughing and not angry
with him.

"I can see that. Yes. It
would be, perhaps, a bit ungrateful to complain about good fortune like that.
Very well, sir. Very well." They were actually taken inside, and allowed
to sit in a front room while they were being announced.

No one spoke, which he didn't
understand. It was a sitting room and boring enough that it was probably
allowed
.
Even if there were spies in the walls, or people in the other room to pay
attention to their needs, they could have spoken about the weather, or talked
about music, or fishing. He'd fished before, since it had been part of keeping
himself fed. It was hard to find a net, but that was the easiest way to do it.
Before he could bring that up, a man came in that was big, but, he realized,
actually shorter than he was.

Count Thomson. Big, and muscular,
as well as blonde, with blue eyes and skin several shades lighter than that of
either Count Peterson or Petra. About like what Collette had going on. Lighter
than many, but nothing like the pale cream coloration of the lady that followed
the man in.

By comparison she was
tiny
.
Thin and so lovely that Collette stared at her, in envy. The idea that they
were going to set her on rapists seemed wrong suddenly. Then, they had a plan
for that. The one that Princess Veronica had provided.

Gerent stood up, which had
Peterson doing the same. The ladies stayed in place, but he bowed, smiling.
Tovey looked at him blankly, but then managed to nod.

"Well met. Count Peterson! I
recognize you all, except for this man? Your... son?"

That got Gerent to blink, but
strangely Count Peterson didn't leap to deny it. Not aggressively at any rate.
Rather he patted Ger on the back firmly.

"Posssibly my father's
child? Gerent isn't nearly young enough to be my own. He does have the family
look, doesn't he? If what Timon mentioned to me was correct, he should be
growing into what he should have been. At
least
of noble heritage,
clearly. I fear the wrong done him in life was even greater than what it had
originally seemed."

He was tackled by Terlee, who
held him around the middle, firmly. It was close enough that he had to move her
back a bit, since she was just the right size to hit him below the waist with
her stomach. Given that she was supposed to be his sister, that wasn't a thing
he wanted to let happen. Not in a room full of people at any rate. The concept
of having a sister wasn't a real thing to him, and Tamerlane was noble enough
that the idea of taking a lover or two was just expected of her. Again, this
wasn't the time to investigate that idea with her, if it ever was.

No one noticed too much that he
moved away, but he made a point of holding her upper arm for a bit, so that it
wouldn't be offensive.

She ducked her head, a bit shyly.

"Brother! We haven't heard
from you for so long I was worried. We wanted to ask you to move in here, but
then you vanished? Is all well?"

It was a good enough time to
introduce the plan, after a fashion.

"With
me
? Well
enough. I'm going off to Harmony tomorrow, to pick up an aid package that Queen
Tiera and her people have made for those in need here. There's something else
that we need to discuss-" A tiny being, in a little dress, crawled into
the room, looking at them all with brown eyes. The baby was pale, and had its
gown around its neck, which only seemed right. After all, crawling like that
pretty much required getting the thing out of the way. It was practically like
shackles, otherwise.

"Dumas! What are you doing
in here?"

He had a little mop of blonde
hair on the top of his head, and Terlee rushed over, embarrassed, to pick the
child, clearly a boy, up. She actually blushed, as if it were a huge problem.

Count Peterson smiled, his beard
moving hugely.

"Ah, one of your heirs! If
what brought us here today wasn't so dire, I'd suggest we include him in the
discussion. I fear it isn't a matter for one so..." He actually stopped
and looked at the tiny baby and then slowly shook his head. Speaking directly
to the boy, he threw off a seated bow. "I mean no offense, of course,
Countier Thomson. It is merely that we suggest dark workings, and it would not
be the time for you to engage in such. We should however get together shortly,
and perhaps go hunting? I'm thinking of a campaign later in the spring, you
could bring your parents?"

There was no hint of anything but
pure politeness in the words, and the baby smiled back, nodding.

"Ya'kay." It was
clearly an answer. Gerent blinked, but then nodded himself.

"Good thinking, Count
Peterson. His Aunt, Taman, was a full builder at six years. Underestimating
Dumas here would be... a poor plan. I'm your Uncle, by the way. Uncle
Gerent." They'd never met after all, so it made sense to introduce
himself.

Everyone else was introduced too,
and then the boy was moved back to whatever guarded space he was supposed to be
in. Tovey, having been listening carefully, led them to their own secret room,
which was small, but had seating, for comfort. Nothing on the walls at all,
which were stone, and a silence magic field in the middle, on a low table. They
waited on Tamerlane, who blushed again when she came back.

"Forgive me. I didn't know
that he'd wake from his nap. I don't think he's able to hunt yet." She
smiled and looked at the big Count.

"All boys learn, eventually.
Most girls too. When young they normally just ride around with their father, or
a groom, holding a toy bow or lance. Now, not to be rude, but I do hope you
will both be out for the event? Needs of the realm providing?"

Tovey was sitting, so bowed from
there, gently.

"It's a kind offer, well
met. If we can't make it there, please know that you and Veronica are always
welcome here. We should make firm plans."

They went back and forth like
that for a few turns, when Count Peterson fixed first the other Count, then his
wife, boldly.

"When taken by the now
deposed Count Rodriguez, Petra Ward, Conserina Two, was sorely used. Tortured,
and raped by some of the Count's men. She hid the later to nobly and honorably
protect the innocent of that County."

Tamerlane stood up, her eyes wide
and wild looking, before the man could finish. She moved in front of Petra,
where she sat on a low tan chair that was made of wood, like it all was, but
with a nice red cushion on it for comfort.

"I swear that we will see to
what you need. Tovey, I need to go, and..."

What she thought she was going to
do, Gerent didn't know, but Count Peterson ran through the current plan, which
had her in agreement, far sooner than Ger would have been. Rather than look at
her husband, or anyone else, she focused on him, her face tight.

"Yes. We will send Counts
and Countesses for it. You as well, brother, to stand for Lairdgren. Though do
not leave out Count Lairdgren, the new. He is an older man, but more clever
than most would imagine."

Collette nodded.

"That's true. Kyle Hardgrove
is not a man to trifle with. Don't be fooled by his demeanor. We should seek
him out too, at least to get his blessing. That might need to be on the return
from Harmony in a few days. We're going to run out of time otherwise. We have
your backing, and aid, in this?" She looked at Tovey with eyes that spoke
of long familiarity. Gerent had to wonder about that one, figuring that she
would have known Terlee, having been close to two of the woman's real brothers.

There was no doubt of it however,
and other than being stopped at the door by Dumas, who had escaped his room
again, they were headed back shortly after that.

It was, by that time,
mid-afternoon. To get their minds off things, after luncheon, he grabbed Petra
by the hand. She didn't shrug him off or stiffen, just holding his palm in
hers. It was a powerful grip, but her hand was smaller than his own, which made
it a bit strange to him.

"Will you come out with me
to get some trees? It's not that much fun, but I'd like to try out at least a
few, on this trip. Some shrubs, as well. We need some canvas... Dirt too, I
bet. I have no clue what the Moon has that way." That meant taking the
woman to the grand market, which was busy that time of day still.

The colorful stalls always
changed, filled with things from all over the world. They were mainly made of
wood with cloth strung over them in places, to provide shade. It was intense
enough that his Timon shield had darkened, making him look like a dim spot in
space. Petra did the same, so at least they matched. They didn't spend much, just
three gold on a bit of cloth, some shears to cut it with from a blacksmith, and
a few trinkets to give as gifts. Handmade things that might be useful, or at
least pretty enough that no one would wonder why they got it.

Part of that thought got him to
wince.

"Three gold. I was just thinking
that it isn't that much." He shook his head for a bit, as the girl next to
him nodded.

"Yes, it was a good deal.
You bargained so closely for everything that I thought a few of the merchants
were going to close up shop rather than deal with you!"

"That's not what I meant. Do
you know, before I was twenty-five, I don't think that I had even two gold to
call my own, for my
whole
life? I don't mean at once, either. The entire
thing. I barely touched a copper, and the one time I held a silver it was meant
to be split three ways. Tor let me have the key to his vaults, on a whim I
guess, and that's changed so much for me. It's made me a bit lazy with it, you
know? Just expecting coin to be there when I need it. That wasn't always the
way." For a moment he felt stupid, his tongue no longer working, but the
girl next to him just looked around, pleased. As if he were secretly brilliant,
noticing that he was turning into a lazy dandy with a pocket full of gold.

"It's a good thing, to
remember where we came from. Especially in regard to where we plan to go. Right
now
... I think that's to get some plants? Because hard work is clearly
what
all
the pampered and wealthy Countiers are doing these days."

 It was his plan, so they
hurried, since night, and the fancy meal he was supposed to be at, would come
quickly. Smiling he thought about what she said, and decided that there were
some things he didn't really want to become, if he could help it. Like someone
too lazy to help out his friends. Or his new family.

Getting trees wasn't hard for
them, since they used earth moving devices for it. Tor had done the original
design, but the ones he had were copies that Timon had run up for him. The boy
wasn't shy at all about stealing other people's work like that. Not his older
brother's at least. The shrubs had to be bound, and he needed to break out a
dozen of Boxy's siblings to carry the plants they'd gotten and enough soil to
keep them alive, and from going into shock and dying.

When he explained this to Petra,
she grinned at him and pointed at Boxy, a single lean finger doing the work.
She had lovely hands, he realized. Long and subtle, even if the palms were hard
with callus. Darker than his own, by a bit, if he compared them closely.

"Let me get this right. That
floating case is named Boxy? And you have it following you around all the time?
Even if it's empty?" She thought it was funny at least, so he shrugged.

"I learned, a long time ago,
as a child really, that you have to have friends. Once I had a friend that was
a rock that lived in my pocket, until I lost him. That was sad. So, when I was
off alone for the last months, I went back to my old ways, without thinking
about it. I know that Boxy isn't real, I'm not insane, but it gave me someone
to talk to. Silly, right?" He tried to look happy about it, but the woman,
still smiling, just reshaped the craft for them, making it big enough for all
the plants to sit in the back, and then opened it up along the side with a
ramp, so they could guide everything in.

Then, minutes later, as they
settled into the front seats, she looked at him.

"Silly? Yes, a bit. Probably
not too well balanced either, but I've heard about worse. You might want to put
him away for your trip to the palace tonight. Sneak him in with you. I'm not
saying you should be impolite to him, even if he doesn't understand, since all
practice in manners is a good thing. Letting everyone
else
know about
your imagined friend might make them doubt you however, and since you're
representing an entire world tonight, you can't let that happen." She looked
away, still seeming to think it was funny, for some reason.

Gerent, leaving the craft on the
ground for the moment, sitting in a forest about two hundred miles above
Galasia, since he sort of wanted to avoid that place, turned to her and made a
comical face, then he looked into the back.

"Hear that Boxy? You have to
pretend to just be an amulet tonight. That, or go as my date. I can see that
one not going over so well." He hadn't thought about that part of things,
but looked at Petra and felt himself go a little wide eyed. "Um... Am I
supposed
to have a date? I mean a real one. Not that I'm disparaging Boxy, but he's a
boy. It could throw off the seating."

She nodded, clearly thinking
about it all.

"You do insane too well, you
know that Countier Lairdgren? As to your question, yes. Probably. When in
doubt, call in to check. Though, my guess is that you can take me, or Collette,
and no one would bat an eye. She's one of King Richard's personal spies after
all." She let this drop as if being casual, looking at him a bit too
closely for it to not have been on purpose.

It was strange. Mainly because
people rarely told him real secrets like that. For instance Collette hadn't.
Was she spying on him? If so, why hadn't she asked more questions? It wasn't
like he had real secrets, was it? Also, did that mean she was spying on the
Wards? Except... he knew that one, didn't he? If Debbie could be trusted, then
they were on the King's side, despite what they were going around and telling
people. Even to the point of letting their people suffer for it a bit, to sell
the act. They weren't getting half the food and supplies they needed to make up
for shortages. The King had to give his supporters more, but if he let those
others suffer too much, they'd never work with him again.

His head tried to reel for a bit,
but he covered by taking off, going straight up, not stopping until he was
thousands of feet above the ground. Then he left the craft in place for half a
second, found his bearing and headed south, back toward the Capital. It was
still daylight, so they were in good time, he thought.

"Sure. Everyone knows about
all that." He managed a better sounding casual than Petra had. That was
one of his skills, after all. He could lie believably, as long as no one
thought to tuck a Truth amulet around his neck. Luckily for him, almost no one
had them. Petra probably did, and so did he, but neither one of them pulled
them out. Thankfully.

"You know already? Did Tim
tell you? I swear, you can't keep
anything
from that boy. Princess
Veronica is the same way. It's like they read your mind all the time. So, I
can't use that to make myself look better than Collette? I mean
I'm
not
a spy. That's something you'll want in a wife, don't you imagine?" It was
said lightly, without her making eye contact at all.

Like a liar might do.

Ger nodded a little, then
pretended he knew things he wasn't planning to share.

"Right,
not
a
spy..." He looked out the front too and then let a small, if false, grin
take his lips. "But you do that
other
stuff for the King, don't
you?" It was just a guess, but Petra was pretty, and at some point the King
had probably noticed her. He was the King, so if he wanted to take a turn, you
probably had to say yes, even if you didn't really feel like it.

Then, almost instantly he felt
bad about the idea, and winced, which got her to stare at him, her face going
hard.

"What do you mean? Did Tor
tell you? I know that you're his brother, but I didn't think he'd let that
slip. It's isn't much of a Secret Army if everyone knows about it, is it? Sure,
he started it, but..." She trailed off, seeming a bit upset.

He just felt glad it wasn't a
tale about how the King had assaulted her, or insisted she do things that
harmed her soul.

So he waved it all away.

"Well, you know Tor.
Brilliant, but not that politically savvy. Unlike
me
. Yep, I sure have
all that political maneuvering down, don't I?" He glanced at her, for just
a moment, heading back to the Capital, noticing that Galasia, the city proper,
was right below them. Petra noticed him watching it.

"Galasia... I, that place
holds bad memories for you, doesn't it?" She sounded subdued, but then she
knew about what had happened to him there. How he'd failed to protect Patty,
over and over again, letting those monsters have her. Too small and weak to
stop them.

"Yeah. I..." He didn't
want to speak of it, but hiding things like that didn't help, in the end, did
it? "They raped her. So many times, and I tried to fight... But I was
too... You know, what I was back then. When I could I took revenge, Tiera and I
did, but it was too late. They hurt her." If misery had a sound, it was
his voice in that moment. Petra reached toward him and patted his arm, which he
shrugged off.

Then he stiffened. That was rude
and she was only trying to give comfort. He just wasn't used to that sort of
thing.

"Sorry. Not trying to... You
know, so, a trip into space. Have you done that a lot?" Not everyone had,
but she was rich and important, as well as connected to a lot of people that knew
the ones with all the ships.

To his surprise she shrugged.

"Once or twice. Tim got me
up there. You?" It was idle talk, but he finally had something to say
about it.

"Oh, I lived up there, for
about four months. On the Ranford, mainly. With my friend Alice? I don't know
why she kept me around. As entertainment, I guess. Running errands as a job,
for the most part. Nothing all that useful. Kind of like what Tiera has me
doing now. Delivery boy. Work is work though, so I won't complain. I need to do
something to earn my place."

The woman next to him reached out
again, as if testing his reaction. This time he leaned toward her a little,
trying to make it seem like his previous response had just been about the
topic, not her. That was true, so it wasn't a hard sell. She seemed more
relaxed after that.

"That's adventurous. Have
you been to Harmony?"

He hadn't, but neither had she,
so it worked for both of them. When they landed in front of Tor's grand palace,
Gerent turned to her, his face as bland as he could make it.

"I... Do you really mean it?
Or is this whole thing a game? It's all right, either way. I just need to know
and... Don't." He felt foolish and little again. The clever comedy player
that lived off of crusts of old bread and the bits of meat left on well chewed
chicken bones.

"Sorry? What part? I can't
think of any games at all, this day. Not even with the fight practice earlier.
You might have the makings of someone very good, if you work at it."

It was telling, that her mind
went there first. That her assumption wasn't that he wondered if she were
teasing about wanting a marriage with him, but about combat.

"The marriage one. I... you
know, I always figured that it wouldn't happen for me. That I'd live and die
alone. I was so happy when I figured out that Count Lairdgren actually meant it
when he said I was his adopted son. It took a long time. It just seemed unreal.
Like a fantasy that I had as a little child. The rest of them, the Bakers, they
did that too. Making it all into something to count on. But having a wife? I...
Is it really something that you'd want? With
me,
I mean?"

 She looked at him, and then
shrugged.

"I
have
to get
married. It isn't really a choice. If I wait too long, then Marvin and Maria,
or my mother, will pick someone for me. Collette is in the same boat. The thing
there is that her pool of people to marry is about six times larger than my
own. Inbreeding and line crossing means that there are about six men in the
Kingdom that I can become attached to. You're safe though. Even if it turns out
that you're the son of some nobleman, or woman, with a merchant. You look right
for that. Even if you were Marvin's child, that half parentage would make you
safe enough for me. You
aren't
, by the way. I worked out the math on
that one. You're too old, even for Marvin to have done it. So, yes, I really
mean it. I would if you were old and foul, or just turning fourteen. That makes
it sound bad, doesn't it? Like you're only good as a place filler. I don't mean
it that way!"

She nearly yelled the last bit,
panicked. Probably thinking that he'd be insulted by the information. Gerent
wasn't. Not at all. It was, in fact, good to understand what she was really
thinking.

She went on after a minute,
"I... It's just that Marvin is right about you, and didn't have to explain
a lot. I can choose to pick you, pray that some old woman dies and leaves her
husband a widower, or try to wait for Terry to get old enough to wed. The
competition for both of you is fierce. It will be worse for him, I bet. He has
Tim's good looks, so women will line up for miles just to look at his smiling
face. You..."

She looked out the window and
made a hard face that was reflected lightly in the clear shield window. It
wasn't even twilight yet, but the sky would be darkening soon. She didn't
speak. Her lips went hard and white, and she started to breathe deeply, taking
huge gulps of air.

"I have to ruin everything,
don't I? Brilliant Petra, tell the man that his little brother is more
attractive than he is..."

Gerent smiled, finally
understanding it.

"But he
is
. All of
them are. That isn't a big thing. I'm better looking now than I ever dreamed of
being. Nearly average, even!" It was true enough, if what he'd been told
was right. He still hadn't really looked in a mirror.

Next to him, the woman shook her
head just a little, "average has its charms. It was rude of me to mention
that. I... Can we start over? I just wanted to say that I'm really serious and
that I like you. You seem nice enough. For instance, the last man I was engaged
to had me tortured, and let his men rape me for days. So far all you've done is
try to make
that
right. It's better. Embarrassing and shameful, but I
get the concept. We need to save those innocent villagers and fisher folk along
the coast in Rodriguez.
They
didn't do anything to me."

It probably wasn't the last time
they were going to have that conversation, or one pretty similar to it. Gerent
understood that however. She would pay for what those others had done for a
long time. There was no real way around that. You could only get through it.
Move past it all and keep going forward. Except that, here he was, pushing for
them to revisit the idea, which would be causing her pain, constantly.

He looked at her and sighed,
feeling lost and helpless for a moment. Finally he touched her arm, doing the
same thing that she'd done to him, a bit earlier. She leaned back too.

"What's the plan then? Run
off to the priest tomorrow? How do people do that anyway? I don't have anyone
to set that up for me. No mother, or grandmother to take her place." Ger
looked at her, hoping that his words would seem bold, not like he was an idiot.
Thinking about it he understood there was no way for that to have happened, but
Petra giggled, and hugged him, awkwardly, from the side.

"
Announcements
first.
We'll need to tell everyone. Then we'll get... Um, well, you need to get with
your Counts, to see what they suggest. Hopefully that won't be some other
woman."

He blinked.

"Hardgrove... Um, I only
count the one... Or... Do you mean Tovey?" That sort of made sense, given
that he was kind of an in-law, after a fashion.

She shook her head, then hugged
him again.