The Burning Crown (Stone Blade Book 4) (24 page)

Kidwell blipped Micah her message as she and Thompson walked toward the door. He returned it not long after that. He did want to meet, but later that evening. Much later, he explained, since Outremin had received a message from his Laird and the two of them had not slowed down since then.

"Plus-plus polar," said Thompson, "It's about time we..."

Something burst loudly inside the hover. Kidwell smelled a sweet, sour scent just before the world faded to darkness.

Chapter 14. Loyalties

 

Reginald Laird Fyrelm sought and found inner calmness. Rumors of the most serious Moot censure were so ubiquitous now he no longer doubted their veracity. He still had no meat on those bones but that mattered little, he knew the call to Moot would come soon. House Varl and its allies maneuvered to take advantage of whatever happened, as if they didn't know, and the other Houses also showed heightened and unusual activity. They didn't necessarily want to profit from Brightcrown censure but they certainly thought to their own defense.

The action in Varl, Binkor-Sud and Snughblak now precluded any preemptive measures. The Great and Noble House of Brightcrown must needs close ranks and prepare for the onslaught, from whatever direction or source it came. It would persevere, whether or not its Laird did. Brightcrown had indeed weathered many storms and would, no doubt, weather many more. As Fyrelm saw it, his duty now lay toward his allies and his friends.

"Yes, m'Laird Fyrelm?"

Luther Laird Edders and Savn Laird McReely both stood and bowed properly with concern evident on their faces.

"Be welcome, my friends." Fyrelm motioned them to chairs. "I fear the nature of my news is far less than pleasant."

Edders and McReely exchanged looks.

"As you well know, the rumors of censure against House Brightcrown have reached the level of certainty. It is past sanity that we still have no substance to them yet certain they are. I have reviewed all the material your agents could gather. I have no doubt it connects sensibly, perhaps even to the justification of whatever censure is raised, but I can make nothing of it.

"Pray understand, my friends. I do not accuse! You and your blood have done well and beyond duty, and I commend them for that. It appears, sadly, that our foes have stolen more than a few marches on us. You all have served House Brightcrown past any obligation I could or will place upon you, but now is the time to look to your own Houses.

"My dear friends, it is with sadness and regret that I must ask you to sever all ties to House Brightcrown. I will not have you share our fate, and whatever shame befalls us need not stain the Houses of Edders or McReely. Save yourselves and guard yourselves, for I fear I shall soon lack the ability to aid you."

After a moment of stunned silence, Edders and McReely both spoke as one.

"Never, m'Laird Brightcrown," said Edders, "Never! As long as your House has stood loyal to us we shall stand loyal beside you! So long as one drop of Edders blood yet survives we shall shore up and protect the Great and Noble House of Brightcrown!"

"Nay, Laird Reginald," said McReely, "Without Brightcrown there would be no McReely! We stand as your ally in truth, not of convenience! McReelys will fight for Brightcrown until the last of us falls!"

"My friends, please! Do not be foolish. Luther, Savn, there is no need for your Houses to suffer the sling that fells Brightcrown. Sever your ties and save what you can. Brightcrown will survive. If not then we shall rise anew! My Oath is upon that."

"Then shall we all, Reginald," said Edders.

"I agree," said McReely, "I regret to report that my communication with Lady Blue and Sir Karr has been disrupted. It will be quite impossible to contact them."

"Alas," said Edders, "My communications were through Savn."

Fyrelm stared hard at both men, neither of whom wavered a milli.

"If the Great and Noble House of Brightcrown has a fault," said Edders, speaking to McReely but for Fyrelm, "it lies in its total refusal, and that of its Lairds, to allow its friends to take risk on its behalf. Reginald, my old friend, we shall stand beside you as you have us so many times. Did you wish to ask any Edders, blood or oath, they would say the same. They would say the same from the strongest Noble blood to the most distant oathbound. Besides, did the Great and Noble House of Brightcrown fail, how dire would be the plight of her allies?"

"But..."

"Nay, Laird Fyrelm," said McReely, "Our lot and our allegiance is with you. Consider us Brightcrown-stubborn on that!"

Fyrelm opened his mouth to respond before realizing he had no words to say. Thanks, gratitude, appreciation... All such words fell short of the trust his friends had in him.

"Thank you, my dearest friends. That is far short of what you have given me yet it is all I have to offer."

"Then be patient, Laird Brightcrown," said Edders, "Ere long we shall have a heaping plate of justice to serve House Varl and its minions!"

"With dessert," added McReely.

***

Charlie Ferrel stepped off the ship and onto the ground. The sun shone brightly and a few distant clouds drifted across the sky in serene counterpoint to the deep and turbulent emotions roiling within him. He took a moment to calm them, and to sniff the air which smelled of the planet, faintly here at the port but still present.

He regretted not speaking to Ionoski in person, but just as well this way. He left a message which Comm Central assured him would reach Ted at best speed. As to Micah and Vera... He left them messages they'd find when they returned to Azure. For now, let them enjoy their lengthy furloughs. They certainly deserved them.

Ferrel walked slowly along with the crowd, all of them headed to the entry point off the tarmac. The port around him still bustled with people busy about their tasks. Merchants seeking one last trade or finishing a bit of paperwork, vendors selling their wares and tourists buying them. The crowd flowed in all the colors and sounds of normalcy, giving the port a life of its own. Overall, he thought, things here had changed not at all. He joined one of the queues leading through Customs and into the port complex proper.

"Good afternoon, seigneur. Welcome to Faircoast." said a young port officer, House Sjoerd by his crest, "Are you here for business or personal reasons?"

"Both," smiled Ferrel.

He placed his hand on the palm plate and looked into the retscanner. The terminal beeped and flashed red and the young man looked up in surprise.

"Prince Gunter! Welcome back, sire!" Then, as the display cleared the man took on a fearful look. "You should not be here, your highness! Go back quickly, sire! I'll say the scanners malfunctioned and gave a bad reading."

"Thank you, lad, but I cannot do that. I'm here for a reason and even otherwise I'd not besmirch the honor of House Sjoerd."

The man started to say something but the alert had spread. Four Elder Guards now trotted quickly toward them.

"In that case, your highness, I fear I am compelled to place you under arrest."

Ferrel smiled. "Then do your duty, good Sjoerd," he said with full formal inflection, "Ever honor in heart and skill in craft. Don't worry, young sirra, you are a credit to your honor and your House."

One of the Guards, a Varl, shackled Ferrel's hands roughly and smiled wickedly. The others smiled not at all.

***

Micah observed a certain house closely as he drove by. He viewed it from several angles with nothing to show for it. Nothing set it apart from any other house on this block or any others around it. After Kidwell acknowledged his meet point he heard nothing more from her or from Thompson. Very unusual. Then things went from unusual to disturbing when no one appeared for the meeting: no Kidwell, no Thompson and no Elder Guardsmen looking for Micah. The situation escalated to alarming when he sent her a silent blip and received no response.

Micah parked the hover, wriggled into a noseeme and crept toward the house. It lay between two others and separated from them by a modest yard. Try though he might, Micah detected no alarms on the fence or on the exterior of the house itself. It was neither large nor small and not unusual in any way save the locator blip that led Micah here.

The house did show occasional signs of activity. Lights came on and went off at irregular times and occasionally a shadow moved across the curtained windows. Micah assumed the place full of well-armed guards and acted appropriately. The back porch had no security he could detect so Micah crossed it slowly. He had a blaster along with several types of grenades but he hoped not to need them and would not use them unless forced. He held a stunner in his hand and had a needle pistol close to it.

Micah slunk to the back door where he found a trivial alarm. He bypassed it easily and unlocked the door as quietly as he could. It opened into a utility room that in turn led to a kitchen. One man sat sleepily at the table; he dropped into total slumber when Micah stunned him.

Moving quickly now, Micah cleared the rest of the house. He swept the rooms, stunned three more people and still found no sophisticated security gear. He also found no Kidwell or Thompson! He checked the house again, thoroughly, mentally muttering profanity all the while. Still nothing!

Micah risked another locator blip which returned immediately and here. This close, the small readout indicated a location below Micah yet the house had no basement. Now Micah checked the place yet again, this time in search for a path leading down.

Something nagged at him. Both the kitchen and utility room had cryoboxes with the latter considerably larger. When Micah looked closer, he saw it was firmly anchored to the floor. Nor was it a cryobox! Its door opened to a small, tight stairway down.

Micah took the stairs quickly but quietly. He did a cursory check for security but speed mattered more now. At the bottom of the stairs and around a sharp turn Micah caught a brief glimpse of multiple figures raising weapons. He fired, dropped, rolled and fired some more. Four unconscious guards later he stood in front of a heavily-armored door. He settled it with a small thermex capsule, kicked it off its still-glowing hinges and fired through it.

Chaos! The six mobile people didn't have space to maneuver properly in the small room and Micah had no worries on friendly fire. Two of the six fired stunners but succeeded only in felling one of their own. Five shots later Micah had the room entirely to himself with only a bound Kidwell and Thompson for company.

"Micahhhh. Loverrrrr..." Kidwell slurred the words badly. "We knew... you'd be here sooooon."

Thompson looked more alert but had several bruises and a cut. Micah wasted no time freeing him.

"I'm sorry, Sergeant Stone. They... bombed our hover. I didn't get a chance to..."

"Don't worry," said Micah, "You did enough. What did they give her?"

"Babbabble. Bulll," bubbled Kidwell, smiling sloppily.

"I don't know, sir. It was something in a hypo. Ahh... Shouldn't we be leaving?"

"As of ten minutes ago," said Micah.

He examined the others strewn about the room and collected comms and weapons. Two of the unconscious figures wore nicer and different garb than the rest.

"Those two questioned us," said Thompson, "The other guards snapped to when they spoke. I think they had us under observation for a long time."

"They were gooood, toooo," said Kidwell. Then she giggled.

"Fight it, hon! You know the drill," said Micah.

Thompson looked at Micah with disbelief. Kidwell swallowed hard, twice, then giggled again.

"Leeeeeeaving," she said, "Goooood. No fun here."

Micah fetched his hover quickly, certain he was under scrutiny. It made a tight fit with the other two hovers there but fit it did! Working as quickly as he could Micah disconnected the locators and other nonessential circuitry in all the hovers. He levered the still-sleeping interrogators into the boot of one and motioned Thompson and Kidwell into its back seat. He programmed the other two hovers to random destinations, killed the lights and took the front seat of the remaining vehicle. As soon as he opened the garage door all three hovers whooshed out and away. To any outside eyes all three would appear empty.

"Thompson! Open the aid kit and administer the bright orange and green hypo. It's a Marine-strength purgee and it should take care of what they gave her."

Micah, crouched down away from sight, monitored their progress on the autonav display.

"Where are we going," asked Kidwell, alert and sweating now, "League mission station?"

"Nak," said Micah, "The house guards have a few sport houses around town. They keep them under the garble for certain activities they don't want known. I'm headed for one of those, eventually. Tell me what happened."

Kidwell recounted their story swiftly. Thompson looked distressed toward the end of it but Micah dismissed his concern out of hand.

"Everyone gets firsted now and again, John. You should know that better than anyone. We need to focus on what happens next."

***

Three off-duty Varl house guards swore as the strange hover sped to a short stop in their garage. One strode angrily toward Micah as he left the vehicle.

"Hoy, nubb! I don't know what you bloody..."

"Quiet!" Micah put a command snap into his voice. Then, spotting a guard he recognized, "You there. Usaag! You know me, yes?"

"Aye..."

"Then help me!"

The two others, much more irate now, made no move to help Micah as he shut the garage door and opened the boot. One stepped back as Micah pulled out the first body.

"You listen cully," started the man.

"
You
listen, cully," interrupted Micah, "Everyone knows why you keep this house. It's no secret. I have need of it now and you will help me!"

"The feces we will," said Usaag, "We know who you are, bally boy. I don't know who you
think
you are but me nor Pruse nor Vassey are taking your ruddy orders! You think otherwise maybeso we just teach you some manners!"

"Slib," said Micah, showing exasperation now, "I'll settle all of you right now and I'll tell Sir Beau you abandoned your duty! These... persons are enemies to the Great House Varl and likely traitors to the crown besides. If you'd rather take a drubbing than serve your Laird, I'll report that too! Then I shall discover these traitors' names and the extent of their crimes. After that... After that, justice will be visited upon them! You can either help me or join them!"

Other books

Good Day In Hell by J.D. Rhoades
The Rogue Hunter by Lynsay Sands
Night-World by Robert Bloch
AD-versaries by Ainsworth, Jake
Shadowgod by Michael Cobley
The Sex Surrogate by Gadziala, Jessica
Weapon of Blood by Chris A. Jackson