Off Center (The Lament) (19 page)

Only,
Pran noticed, they didn't really, did they? They delayed them. They threw a tool
into the works and hoped to buy themselves a reprieve. Doing that wouldn't work
forever, of course. They had a long time to plan and act, after all, and could be
nearly anyone. Not, thankfully everyone all at once, or they'd have already lost,
but it was probably close to that.

She
looked at Clark and then Judge Claire. If he knew, then why hadn't she? Maybe Clark
could avoid the subject with her, but how had the Doctor managed to seem normal
around her? Why would they keep Guardian Mara out of it as well?

Clark
actually explained that, his large right hand coming out a bit, pointing at his
partner.

"On
duty, all Guardians are treated as equals. That's why if High Guardian Saran is
around she has to stand watch, and why Apprentice Guardian Pran takes the duty too,
even if that's mainly a fiction to make things run more smoothly. It's a rule we
have." He glanced at Mara and then rubbed at the scar on his face, the silvered
flesh rippling a bit in the pale fall light that came through the window. It was
dimming already, but no one lit a wall lamp yet. "That doesn't mean that we
all know the same things all the time. I've been here, guarding Claire, but my job
is only partly that."

Pran
spoke, hoping it wasn't too out of place.

"You've
been trying to find their base, so that you can destroy it, haven't you?"

Clark
looked horrible then, and stared at the floor.

"Yes.
And using Doctor Millis to try and do it."

After
that little announcement, Clark almost instantly turned to planning how to help
Pran. She had work to do, and it had to be done in a way that made sense. It would
be a huge thing, helping Will escape, and she had to find some way to keep Judge
Claire from figuring out she was involved. That seemed a funny thing to say, being
that she was right there, sitting in front of them in her old white robe, looking
too young to be in a position of power like she was.

Pran
got it though. It was a story. They had to tell everyone a tale that made sense,
or else it would be jarring and uncomfortable. If that happened they'd start to
think
about things, and that, she knew, was almost always bad. All stories
had gaps in them. Weaknesses due to time constraints, or the audience themselves.
For instance, you couldn't tell a complex story to a simple audience that didn't
have context for what you were saying. Children didn't want to bother with adult
themes for instance. They didn't care. Tavern patrons would probably not care much
about Lambert the Little Lamb, either. Unless they were really drunk already.

In
this case she had to seem innocent enough that Claire wouldn't think to turn her
gaze on her. That, or Pran could run off, going with the men as they left. That...

"I
don't like it." Clark was very firm about that one at least. He glared, instantly
and without reason, at Mara.

For
her part, Pran simply shrugged.

 "It's...
One way of doing it. I doubt that they'll run back to their secret lair, if that
makes a difference. I wouldn't if I were them. They were both out here to do a job,
and that's a real big issue with Zeke. Mission accomplishment. I suppose if I stuck
with them long enough I might be taken to someplace interesting. Or killed. I mean,
I'm not one of them. Would you trust someone like me? If you didn't have to, I mean?"
She wouldn't, she decided.

Judge
Claire shook her head.

"I
have to agree with Guardian Clark. That means we need a way for you to aid William
and Ezekiel that won't call attention to yourself. Can you sneak into the village
during the night to do these things? It will mean a theft of horses. Unless..."
She held out her right hand and clutched at the air for a minute. "I'd rather
not have you do that. It would require an investigation..."

Mara
shrugged.

"Pran,
why don't you
buy
them, for Will? He hasn't been found guilty yet, and as
his agent, you can get those things for him, so that after the trial, he can leave
town. A lot of innocent people in a case like this wouldn't stay where they were
attacked. If he were found guilty, then you'd get the goods, in payment. Or at least
that's a good enough idea. Then all you have to do is honestly claim that you recovered
the things for that reason. Spread it around. Just really do it and Claire won't
be able to tell that you were doing anything wrong."

It
made some sense. As long as the Judge knew not to ask the wrong questions. It would
take coordination, later. It was the kind of thing that it would be best to avoid,
if possible. Pran could see the problems with it, and if she could, then they were
really there.

Most
likely.

Unless
she was delusional too, which just wouldn't be fair. She didn't think she was, but
would she know? It seemed that thinking there might be weird things in the world
was what she was doing. Clark seemed to be saying it was true, but what if he were
merely humoring her, until they could get her to one of the camps for crazy people?

Yes,
she knew she was being paranoid, but things weren't really running all that smoothly.
She took a deep breath, and looked at the others, her shoulders relaxing and head
coming up. It would make her seem strong and unconcerned about the risk.

Which
was probably insane. Anyone would be worried about all this, wouldn't they? Still,
she did it and made herself seem ready for whatever came.

"I'll
get with Will in the morning, or later tonight. Right now..." It was getting
a little late, but not so much she couldn't do more work on the chests she was making.
If the glue was set enough, she could put the hinges on them. Then she could do
the last sanding and treat them with linseed oil. She would have preferred a fine
lacquer, a good and hard one with a bit of shine to it, but they had the oil, and
it was free.

At
this rate, they'd have the boxes ready in two days or so. It would be a lot harder
to make the instruments, but she'd be able to cobble something together that would
work
. If she had more time, or better materials, she could do a lot more.
That would have to wait though. The Lament was only her home for a few more weeks
after all.

"Oh!
Right, you were going to give me tips?" She said it without thinking, but Mara
looked at her strangely for a while, and then she and Claire laughed.

"Wait,
you were
serious
? Well..." What came next was about fifteen minutes
of talk that made Clark go red faced and Claire look devilish. Mara did too, but
that was so normal for her that no one noticed.

There
were some decent ideas, and everyone, including Clark, agreed that she shouldn't
do anything she wasn't comfortable with. She understood that, after a fashion, but
it was her choice to do anything at all, so she couldn't see the problem with it
really.

The
one thing that was different with her plan was that Doctor Millis came to dinner
with the rest of them, instead of having it brought to him. He didn't sit with Pran
and Roy, which would have been odd. His place was with Bard Benjamin and the Captain,
who had Paul to her right. Even the Second Mate was with the regular crew. The place
was full that night, since only a few people were on duty at all. Zeke wasn't there,
but Roy explained that, with a bit of a smile.

"The
new hand gets to muck the stalls. It isn't hard on the ship, but it has to be done
daily. I promised to save him some food." There was a bit of humor to his words,
but Pran just wondered how that was done. Mucking. She didn't ask however, since
it wasn't exactly a good dinner conversation. She was about to ask for the salt
to be passed when the Doctor cleared his throat a little and rather casually raised
his voice a bit.

It
was sort of like what Mara had done earlier, except that
he
was clearly doing
it so that she could hear him. Or that was what she thought was going on.

"Our
guest, Mr. Butcher, should be able to stand trial in a few days. At least if he
recovers at the current rate. He seems greatly recovered, and ready to prove himself
innocent of the first charges."

Pran
nearly snorted at the mistake.

The
Doctor shouldn't have mentioned that there were any charges past the ones involving
the child. Not levied at Will at least. There would still be those against the men
that had beaten him, since that had happened no matter what else was going on. It
was against the law to beat a prisoner. If they attacked while in custody, the guards
were supposed to control them without use of force, if they could. If not, they
had a duty to control the person with the least amount of damage possible. Even
Guardians would have been up on charges if they'd beaten a man without special dispensation.

There
were a lot of rules like that really. If the Guardians had to use something on duty,
even to get their job of the moment done or save a life, they were required to pay
for it, out of their own pocket. Every time. It wasn't a cost savings measure on
the part of the organization, but a control put in place to prevent them from abusing
their power. It worked pretty well, as far as Pran had seen.

At
least Clark and Mara were both really honest like that. They'd go hungry rather
than take someone's food, for instance.

Pran
raised her hand a bit, trying to catch the old man's attention. He looked at her,
but seemed concerned, which was out of place.

"Oh,
hey... Will asked the other day if someone would take care of some things for him?
After the trial he's planning on leaving directly. Are you doing that for him, or
should I?" She made it sound innocent and no one seemed to think all that much
of it or anything. The Doctor blinked.

"Ah...
I don't know."

She
grinned and slapped Roy on the arm.

"Well,
I can see to that in the morning, if he still wants it done. Of course that means
I get the goods he's asking for if he's found guilty. Not that I have any use for
a meat wagon and some horses. He should get some food too. I need to sneak into
town for it, or they won't sell to me." She picked up her piece of brown bread
and took a bite with crust in it, as if she couldn't care any less about the idea,
except for the fact that she could obviously make a few coin off of it. That part
was potentially enough to get her to do it.

Captain
Mina looked over at her and waved.

"We
don't have space for that, so if you can't sell it, you'll need to leave it all.
Maybe trade for something we have space for? I'm loading up on that apple jack the
headman's girl makes, myself. You might see if Mr. Butcher is willing to let you
agent his meat." That got a laugh from the room, because they were obviously
all ten years old.

Pran
wrinkled her nose.

"I...
do
not
think I'll put it that way. I can see to that, if he wants. They want
it for the winter, but won't trade with him directly, even after the trial, I bet.
Maybe I can get a percentage or something? You know, trade for him and get ten percent
of the goods from it? Or... That might be too much."

She
didn't want to abuse the man's current situation after all. Or at least wouldn't
if she didn't know he was one of the people that was going around stealing other
people's lives.

That
whole thing was the real problem. As far as she was concerned at least. They weren't
just other people, or even
just
trying to take over. They stole the inner
selves of people, killing them, she thought, and taking everything away from them,
taking a second helping of life, by depriving another person.

Mara
waved at her with a fork that had three tines on it and a wooden handle.

"They
have extra on dried apples too, and some pears that didn't look half bad. You can
eat it, if nothing else."

Then,
as if on a signal, everyone went back to eating.

Roy
shook his head a bit forlornly.

"That's
a good deal. If it works I mean. Do you think he'll go for it? He thinks he's going
to be found innocent, right? If he really is, you won't get much. That agenting
thing is the way to go that way. You'll get paid then, no matter what." Food
was, she thought, one of Roy's favorite things, so he started eating decently fast
after that, trying to time himself, so that he wouldn't be finished before the Captain.
That was rude, she thought, even if she had no clue why.

No
one left before the Captain did, not even Judge Claire or the Guardians.

Next
to her Roy looked across the room, and pitched his voice low.

"So...
Are we still, I mean, tonight?" He was trying to sound relaxed about it, but
also giving her a way out? That was really sweet of him.

"That's
the plan. About eight-thirty? That way we can get to bed early, after." She
didn't realize that anyone else would be listening, but Bill, the Second Mate chortled,
and nudged the man next to him, who was dressed like a regular ship's hand. Like
Roy, except without the bit of braid on his shoulder. Blinking it occurred to her
that Roy was actually apprenticing to be an
officer
, not just a person that
did regular work. That it had never occurred to her before... That made sense when
she thought about it. He was always down in engineering, working each day. She had
no clue what he did. For some reason she'd always figured that he was washing the
decks and taking direction from someone else.