Envoy to Earth (13 page)

That meant he was probably pretty
motivated to make sure nothing was wrong with the food. In fact there were two
copper rectangles by the napkins when they were guided to their seats. More to
the point, Richard stood and walked around the thing, then bowed and gestured.

"Ambassador Lairdgren."
He sounded genuine about the use of the title.

Bowing low, Gerent cleared his
throat, which was probably rude, but standing in front of the King always left
him feeling odd. Like he was about to be put to death. It had to do with their
first meeting, where that had been the suggestion. This time there was only a
tall red headed man that loomed above him, but not nearly as much as before.

One that seemed to accept that he
was himself, as different as he looked. That probably meant that he'd gotten a
report or two on that part of things.

"Your Majesty. Queen
Constance. Princess Veronica." He bowed to each in turn, pivoting in
place. Petra followed along with him, until he got to the last one. "Dad.
So good to see you all." He deadpanned that last bit, as everyone else looked
shocked. The Queen did at least.

Count Peterson laughed loud,
however.

"Ah! Were that only the
truth! One could do worse than to have you as a child, Ambassador Lairdgren.
Please, sit. If that isn't me moving above my station?" This was addressed
to the King directly, who smiled and then gestured at the chairs again. They
were fine things, and had green cushions on them, to match the walls. It was a
fine combination of dark and polished cherry and silk. Refined and classy. The
napkins matched the cushions, which had to take careful planning. Every time
they needed to replace one or the other there would be a chance that they
wouldn't be able to purchase the identical material again. The trick there, he
thought, would be buying enough of what they needed at one time, and saving it
for replacements. Then, when you got to the end of it, you started over,
redoing everything. Wasting a lot of things at the same time, but always
looking tidy and like you cared about perceptions.

The King seemed relaxed as he
spoke.

"Not at all, Count
Dad
.
I think I see where that would come from, given the similarities. Did Torrance
do that on purpose? You do look like a Peterson, or possibly a Mendez relation.
A very good look, for a man. Powerful."

It was Veronica that went next,
smiling at him from across the table and one spot down. Her face really was
perfect, he realized. As nice looking as Tamerlane or even Tiera. Laurie was
probably better that way, but it was all so close that no one would bother
really trying to choose between them, he didn't think. Petra was nice too,
however. Plus, when she smiled it felt real. That wasn't the case with Veronica
or Constance. They were always guarded and held back secrets. Little things
that left you with a sense that they weren't being honest with you.

That probably had to do with the
fact that they were often manipulating people.

Still, the Princess didn't make
him speak, which was a nice thing for her to do.

"Tor just set it up so that
Gerent would grow to become what he should have been, and added some time to
his life, to make up for things. It's why he looks so youthful, I bet. Not
immortal, but well done. You certainly look nice enough." She covered her
mouth and then looked at her own bearded and manly husband. "Not that I'm
flirting with you at the table."

Not, he knew, that she intended
to do that with him at all, unless she wanted something. Petra took his hand
under the edge of the table, and looked at the King as he moved into place,
sitting. Upright and powerful looking, in purple and black. Not full regalia,
but it was a well designed suit. They were all dressed very nicely, he
realized. More so than a casual meal with
him
would have warranted.

They didn't speak about anything
of note while they ate, the style still formal, for all that they were eating
family fashion. A fact that Constance made clear, saying it several times.
Pushing the idea that they were close? That he had some kind of strange adopted
relationship to these people, through his new family? The woman kept blinking
at him, flirting in a way that she didn't really mean. It was professional,
like a fine street girl might have done, trying to attract a wandering noble
for the night.

Across the table Veronica kept
doing something similar, both focused on him. Trying to distract him from the
real proceedings, using their feminine wiles. To make it harder for him to
think? That normally would have worked, except that it was too much, in the
moment. Too clearly part of a con, meant to part him with his coin. Or, given
who they were, Queen Tiera's magical devices.

The thing there was that she was
already
sending aid. Truly, it was for everyone, in the whole world, but they wouldn't
be stinted. Tiera was from Noram and counted some of these people as
family
.
Why would anyone bother asking for more than she'd willingly give?

Well, normally he'd know that
answer, because the idea was clear. Most people were greedy creatures, that
would stab their own horse for the chance at a better one. It wasn't exactly
what he would have expected from these people however. They kept it up too,
with only Count Peterson making real conversation.

"I was telling Richard
earlier that he should come up to the Flyer's Base in a month or so for that
hunt. I mentioned that Countier Thomson had agreed to come, but he and the
Queen don't seem to believe me. I found him to be quite firm on the
matter." He grinned, as if it were a joke.

Gerent had to chime in on that
one. "Yes, you asked, and he
did
agree to attend. There's no doubt
about that. Of course, being that he's still crawling that might make actual
hunting difficult for him, but I have no doubt he'll manage."

He'd hunted, but only for food.
It was different he thought, than the large game these people would go after.
If this were a real thing, he needed to get some lessons first.

Queen Constance batted her eyes
at him, her face warm and sweet looking.

"Isn't he less than a year
old?"

It took some counting but the
fact was that he didn't know for certain.

"Um, that seems right. Not
walking yet. That could have been due to the little dress he was in. That thing
had to be a tripping hazard. I don't think I could have walked in one either. You
should probably have him over to discuss politics soon. Offer to house him for
a few months. Fostering?" It was in the old stories, but actually had
Veronica clapping after a few seconds.

"Oh! That's a darling idea.
I've wanted company, and Tamerlane could come along as well. When you get your
ship, Gerent, you can take us back and forth to Harmony regularly, so that I
can visit with Allison?" She cut her words and got a glare from her
mother, but he knew that story.

Allison was her little daughter,
who wasn't that much older than Dumas was. A few years, or less, Gerent
thought. Not that
he
could tell how old people that rough age looked. It
would have probably surprised some people, but Gerent wasn't exactly an expert
on children, having not been around a lot of them for some reason. The
difference there was that the little girl was born immortal, so had to leave
the Earth when he'd made it poison to her. Considering that made him hold the
Count's earlier words in higher regard. For ten years the little girl wouldn't
be able to live with her parents, since they couldn't leave. Not to live in
space all the time. They had real work to do that made that impossible.

"Sure. I don't know what the
schedule will be, but I should be back and forth a few times a week. That's my
plan at least. We'll get together and make a regular time for that?" It
made sense to him, but everyone stared for a long time, with the King finally
tossing off a little bow.

"That is
most
kind
Ambassador, but I'm sure my daughter didn't mean to put you on the mark like
that. It would be..." He stopped and rubbed his face, then smiled.
"Ah. It's difficult at times to keep things separate. Today you're an
Ambassador, perhaps. Tomorrow, who knows? Perhaps the new Duke of the Moon, or
the King of Afrak? The world used to change far less than it does now. I don't
wish to let you be angered, but wouldn't want to keep a mother from her child
either. It's..."

He stopped talking, just looking
at the far wall, his face going flat. Gerent waited, wondering if he were
having a fit of some kind. No one seemed concerned, but then they wouldn't,
would they? They also didn't speak. After a few minutes the man regrouped, life
coming back to his face.

"I see that I was measuring
things incorrectly. Thank you for your offer to see to that, Gerent. I welcome
it, as family, as I think you intended the gesture. Would you, perhaps, be
willing to take some missives to people in Harmony? Simple letters, nothing
more."

The Queen glared at him, "no
business at the table, dear."

It was cute, if a little awkward.
That meant no one spoke much until after the brandy at the end of the meal, and
then the King asked if he'd join him, for a
discussion
. In private.

Except that when he stood,
everyone else did, except Queen Constance. That got the King to look at them
all, bemused.

"Ah, I didn't realize I'd
suggested a group conference. I was just thinking to hand over the letters and
apologize for my misstep, earlier. I suppose that you all want to see me humble
myself?" It was pleasant enough, but Veronica rolled her eyes, which was
probably a rare thing for the man to see.

"Don't be silly, father.
Gerent doesn't care about that. Do you Gerent?"

He looked at the girl, who was
being less than subtle about selling the idea to him, making faces about it. It
would have helped if he knew what the problem was, but didn't, so faked his way
through as best he could.

"I can honestly say that I
don't. Not at all. Even under truth verification." Considering that he
could back that up, it would work to say.

The King seemed relieved to find
that out. That was good, since there were people that Gerent never wanted upset
with him, and a lot of them were right there in that room.

He did get the idea about the
secret meeting however.

"Would it be... possible for
all of us to meet in a place more... Private?" He managed a halfway decent
sounding noble voice then.

Veronica added a nod to that,
"downstairs. With a sound suppressor."

No one reacted to that, except
that they did, leading them all to a dungeon. Or that was what went through his
mind. Perhaps they were taking him in finally for being a fraud? He wasn't
worried about it. The other thought was that he was being taken to question
Will Rodriguez. It would be hard, torturing information from the man, but if
that was what he had to do in order to find what was needed, then he would.
Timon had done it. Could he do any less?

It wasn't that either. In fact,
he was just taken to a slightly damp meeting room, one with a heavy metal door
that Count Peterson locked behind them. There were only four chairs, so he
stood, the giant Count doing the same, shoulder to shoulder with him, in front
of the door, as if keeping the others from running away. The only thing was,
there was a smaller door on the other side, so that wasn't going to work, he
bet.

The King sat himself, and so did
the Queen. It was Constance that spoke first, her tone slightly breathy.

"Is there bad news?"

Petra shook her head.

"Nothing too bad. Or new, to
you two. Gerent figured out that Will... had me raped in his cell. He and
Collette Coltress have gotten a group of Counts and Countesses together to hunt
down the guards that did it. The idea is that, when Marvin finds out..."
She stopped and everyone got to stare at the King for a bit.

It was a pleasant relief, them
not looking at him like that. He got to be part of the group and everything,
which was a special treat. Even the Queen watched him.

The man took a sharp breath.
"I... understand. It isn't a horrible plan. If we take these men and
punish them, by our own hands, then he should be left feeling that we at least
take it seriously. Is that the idea?"

Ger nodded.

"It is. We only have about
half of the people. When the time comes we'll send for you too, Sire. I...
Don't know if you'll have to attend to that or not, Queen Constance. Not
everyone is, um, taking an active role. That might suit sensibilities. Which
could also work for a King, but..." He didn't know how to explain himself,
but Count Peterson did, his voice subdued, for him.

"This is dark work, Richard.
Gerent doesn't want to give offense, but feels that you might be too sheltered
for it. He isn't wrong, about inviting you. We need for everyone to see that
you stand for justice. No matter who it's for. Ideally we'll have some of each
side in on this." He fixed the ruler with a stern gaze that Gerent
wouldn't have dared tried with the man. It was a hard thing that said that the
King, no matter how he felt, had best not back away too easily from this.

"I'll stand ready, when the
time comes. Now, if that's settled for the moment? I have those missives. The
names are marked on each. Queen Tiera, Torrance Baker, Smythe of Westend and
Karen Derring. If you are still willing? I do apologize for earlier. I assessed
your intent wrongly, at first." He bowed low, which got Gerent to do it
back. It was strange, since he didn't know what the man meant still. That
released him well enough and the man stood, looking like he wasn't about to be
kicked in the shin. "Good enough then, if I'm forgiven. Was there
more?" He removed the letters he had and handed them over, so Ger put them
in with the rest that were going so far.