Strange Land (The Young Ancients Book 15) Read online

  "Well, I haven't gotten an invitation yet, but I'm willing to stand there and pout at them until they give in. When is it? I'm sure mine just missed me, or something?" This came with a grin. She probably wouldn't have been invited to Trice and Tim's wedding if she hadn't been part of it, standing as Patricia's lady's maid. Though, that one would have probably been fair, after how she'd had to treat Timon for all those years. The best she could really hope for there was the young man didn't really hold a grudge against her for it.

  It was hard to tell what he knew about things though. Even if he figured out what had been going on, it might still be too much for him to take. She'd been worse than cold to him. She'd played it as if she were indifferent. If it hadn't been ordered by King Richard, she would have at least sent a go between to make sure his feelings weren't harmed by it. That, or even considered the offer. Sure, he was younger than she was, but also a Prince now. Even if he wasn't, there was no good reason for her to treat anyone like that. Not if they showed interest in her.

  It had been a lesson that had been hammered home early on for her. Her own mother had seen to that. You didn't treat anyone, no matter who they were, as less than special. Even if they were vile, old, or ugly. Especially then. There was simply no way to tell who or what a person might become some day.

  Yes, it meant that she'd spent more than one night on her knees making sure that a man she didn't really care for was taken care of well enough, but it was better than being awful to them only to find herself and her family being hung three years later when they turned out to be important.

  It was unlikely, but she couldn't help but remember that little boy with his youthful crush on her that turned out not only to be a Prince, but a wizard so powerful that no one could actually stand against him. The one that she'd treated, if not like crap, then at least like he didn't matter to her. That was going to cost her, in the end.

  It might have already, since that same boy was the only person that could make people immortal. That potential prize had been taken right out of play, hadn't it? Sara would have scolded the King about it, but you just didn't do that sort of thing. So instead she kept her mouth shut, and pretended it had been her plan all along. Alienating him for some unknown reason.

  Worse, if asked she really didn't have anything to say about it. If he ever just came to her and asked why, she'd be left stammering and trying to make up some kind of tale to amuse them both. It just didn't make sense to her. At least it hadn't until Trice had flown in and grabbed him up while he was still too young for anyone else to get married to. It was allowable, as long as the parents agreed, and she was trying to get out of a bad marriage arrangement herself at the time. Still, for that to have been the real reason, the King, or one of his advisors, would have had to be working on things behind the scenes for years.

  Her guess was Count Lairdgren. The old, and now dead, Count. The Green Ancient. The one that looked exactly like Tor used to. The one that had been. Her friend, though no one other than her mother really knew about that.

  Then he'd run off and gotten himself killed by the same plague of magic that held the other immortals off the planet. Probably to avoid having her confront him about what he'd managed to steal from her. The jerk. Hiding himself from her wrath by dying like that.

  Not that she was all that angry about the whole thing. It was, in the end, what most people had. She'd live a life, and die when the time came. That was all. Asking for more was greedy, she didn't doubt. Brushing her blonde hair from her eyes she realized that Terlee was still looking at her, tracking all of what was going on closely.

  Like Tim did. It was eerie, but she didn't think for a moment that the woman wasn't picking up a lot more than was being said.

  "Merchants like me generally don't get asked to state weddings. I should send a note to them both though, congratulating them. I really am happy for them both." She was, but a sudden pang hit her, knowing that she didn't have any serious offers on the table for herself that way.

  No one had ever even sent a proposal in for their ugly and pocked son or nephew. Not that anyone suffered from that kind of thing now. Not the nobility, or even high merchants. Everyone could just use a Healing amulet and it would all be fixed. It wasn't a lack of men either. Noblemen might be hard to find, but at her level there were loads of younger sons around that would want a wife soon. It probably wasn't her looks, either. She just hadn't been making it known that she was on the market, being distracted by Tor and a few other men that she really couldn't have, in the end.

  All of the men that might have married her just then had problems in doing so.

  Shaking her head, she didn't go over it, since that would make Countess Thomson feel bad for her.

  The woman was currently holding her hand in front of her mouth, covering a smile. It was charming when she did it, rather than catty, like most of the women using them would have been going for.

  "I don't know, both Gerent and Petra have spoken of you fondly. Besides, I think that you might fit right in there, given a few more days to get used to things. So, at eleven-twenty or so?"

  "Right. See you then, Countess."

  "Terlee. See you then, Sara." Then the screen went dead, turning a soft and almost luminous white color. Moonstone. Not the semi-precious gem, but actual focus stone made from Moon dust. It was a bit plain, but worked pretty well. It was actually stronger than most of the similar things made on Earth for some reason. It needed a stronger condenser too, she'd been told.

  No, that was wrong, the magics that did that were called concentrators. She tried to remember that, since it might come up later.

  Yawning, Sara stretched, hands over her head. It still hurt a bit, but she was stiff, not injured. Then she decided to go and see about finding the pub she was supposed to meet her new friend at. It wasn't hard, since she'd actually met up with the Prince there a few times, she realized when she saw the sign. The Lizard's Crest.

  It was only a few blocks from the Palace, and was mainly frequented by people that worked in the area. A lot of guardsmen too, since they were encouraged to do so, in order to keep the peace. When Sara walked into the slightly alcohol scented place, she realized something. She had no clue what Squire Gemma would look like. It was early, so she called for a table by raising her hand at the serving woman when the lady turned around.

  She was older, being nearly fifty, and shorter than Sara was, with a hairy mole on the left side of her face and a nose so crooked that only a severe beating could have gotten it into that shape. Except that wouldn't have worked, would it? When the Gray plague had come, not that long before, everyone in the Kingdom had been given access to healing amulets. That kind of damage would have been fixed. Not the brown blob on her face, but the nose. It should be straight and if a trifle too long, not unattractive. Her bent back would have straightened too, most likely.

  "Hey missy! I'll be right wit you. You spectin company?" The woman gave her a saucy look that suggested she might be available for a few coin, but it clearly wasn't meant seriously. After all, Sara didn't exactly have to beg men, or women, to spend time with her.

  "Squire Gemma? We aren't to meet until eight, but I figured that being a bit early wouldn't hurt." She didn't stare at the woman, even when she gave a single nod. The voice was a tiny bit familiar though.

  Plus, she was stooping over, to hide how tall she was. Nearly noble in size. For an older woman she was oddly muscular too, now that Sara bothered to look at her. Most people that practiced fighting were, but this lady in her blue peasant skirt, complete with stains on it, was past that by a bit. Hard and a little rangy. There were no calluses on her hands from weapons work, but a good disguise amulet would take care of that.

  She spoke again, the voice a little higher than Sara remembered it.

  "Ach, ter being a girl worth knowing, ifn; I not miss my mark. You'd like as have something sweet to drink before she comes? Work up the courage to ask her to take you home?" It was a lot more pointed than it should
have been, coming from a common bar maid. A thing that someone like that would have gotten.

  Plus, that accent was really fake sounding. Not even Noram like at all. It was almost like something a person might make up if they knew nothing about real commoners.

  "No, Princess Veronica. Nothing like that. Why, do you think I should?" She waited for the other woman to make denials or act strange, but the server just cleared her throat, sounding different.

  Almost prim and proper.

  "Well, so much for me getting a feel for the people this way. I thought I was doing a good job too. I actually managed to get hired on about three weeks ago, and so far no one else has gotten it. Is it the makeup? I'm wearing too much, aren't I?"

  Sara knew very little about Veronica, except that she was very bright. Too much so to have made some of the obvious mistakes she had.

  "Nose. Healing amulets would fix it. Accent... Um, it isn't a real one. I'd fake something from Printer or that area, if it were me. Common enough people can recognize it, and rare enough that no one will call you too much on doing it wrong. Plus, you're a bit too tall. Hiding it well, but it shows, once you know to look for it. Then there was the part where you asked me if I was going to try and get Gemma into bed. Since we haven't met before, that's a bit soon, don't you think? No one would just say that."

  There was a light stiffening in the form, but no anger came, just laughter in the voice of the serving maid.

  "Just so's miss, as you say. You'd be likin somwat to drink then?"

  The act came back so suddenly that Sara looked around, to see an older man watching them carefully. The owner most likely, since he worked at cleaning the bar with a rag that didn't look too ill used. It was a nice wooden topped thing and not polished, but made of a single thick slab of wood. He was also too muscular by far to have his job.

  A royal guard then? Well, if the Princess wanted to play matronly bar maid, that just made sense, didn't it? She kept looking and finally noticed a rather cute, if young, woman standing in the doorway. She had blonde hair, and blue eyes, which matched a lot of nobles really. Even Sara could answer to that description really.

  She didn't seem to be nicely dressed, wearing a simple set of green working man's clothes. To most people that would have marked her as being of the merchant class. It was a simple outfit to wear out on the town. Clean though. Pristine in fact, with matching green leather boots. No one had dyed leather that wasn't wealthy. The outfit was the default setting on a clothing amulet, given a different hue than the brown it would have normally taken.

  "Squire Gemma?" Sara raised her hand and the young lady smiled at her, in recognition. If so that made one of them. The girl, with her cute, slightly round face, and lean body, meant nothing to her.

  "Ambassador Debri?"

  The serving woman blinked, but then made to curtsey, almost getting that part right. It was actually a little too well done, since most serving women wouldn't have had classes in how to do that sort of thing.

  "Didn't know as to be servin on the highest like this. We can send for the best wine-"

  Sara touched her arm, lightly.

  "No, thank you. I'd like an ale? Something light amber, if you have it? If not, whatever is best here. What would you like, Squire Gemma?"

  The girl didn't hesitate to sit, getting into the wooden chair like she'd been there before.

  "The same for me? That sounds lovely. I don't want to complain, but a whole day standing and watching the palace communications devices is more tiring than it might sound." Her grin was a bit rueful, but she didn't take the words back.

  As soon as the hidden Princess got out of earshot she did lean in however.

  "Do you have word? From Harmony?"

  That got Sara to lean back in.

  "Um, sorry? I mean, I've been in touch, but... No one mentioned you by name, yet. Should they have?"

  The girl made a face then shook her head. Still, she didn't raise her voice.

  "No, I was just hoping that my Knight would have instructions for me. It's been nearly two years, and I've been stuck doing scutt work at the Palace seven days a week. Not that I mind the work, but I sort of had this idea that I might be sent off to get an education, or at least have fighting lessons. So far Sir Patricia has pretty much managed to ignore me. When you asked me out, I'd hoped that she might have sent word, that's all. You're her close friend." That wasn't a guess, which meant the girl had probably seen her at the wedding. Being a Conserina, she'd have merited an invitation, even on short notice.

  "Trice is your Knight?" That was new to Sara, but some things didn't come up in everyday conversation, did they? Not that she and Trice had been that close for a while. Most of the time they'd been together in the last few years it had been all about Tor, or saving the world. Nothing had been mentioned at all about neglecting sworn duties.

  "Appointed by the King himself on the day I was named a Squire simple. I'm a little trapped. I can't complain about it, but nothing has come in for me at all. I think she's forgotten me." There was a bit of sorrow to the words, but Sara shrugged at them, which probably seemed cold.

  "No big thing. I'm going to leave for a visit with her anyway, after this. Some other people are coming along. Who do we connect with at the Palace to make sure that's covered? I don't want them to think that the Tellerand Ambassador kidnapped you or anything."

  Neither of them actually knew, but the busy-body bar matron seemed to think that she'd heard a tale that the Royal Guard would be good for that kind of thing. Being that it had to do with the Palace, she asserted a bit too boldly, which made it their job.

  It took very little time to free the girl up from duty. Sara called the idea in and had the head of the Royal Guard on within minutes. George, the major in charge of the whole mess got things set up in moments. Gemma didn't even have to run off and pack or anything, since she carried a good bit of magical gear on her all the time. That way she'd be ready, no matter what happened. That it meant she had more magic on her than twenty average Counts would be carrying didn't even get mentioned. Even if Trice was being a bad Knight, it was clear where all those things would have come from. She had a habit of lifting extra things like that from Tor all the time. To her credit, she did share the favors around, when she could.

  That really did make things a lot simpler. For now. Until Trice had to answer for what she'd been doing. Neglecting her duty like that... really. That would probably be less than fun to deal with, but it was a sacred charge, which meant that Sara had to help her do it, if she could.

  Chapter four

  It took a bit longer to get everyone around than Sara had first envisioned. Countess Thomson and Tovey were lined up with their two boys and a young, very small and dark, woman. That would be the nanny, no doubt. The problem came when she landed the tan craft, made big enough for ten large people, on the smooth cut natural stone of the back yard.

  The older boy, Clemance, who was about four, had to use the restroom. That meant his little brother had to as well, as soon as the older boy came back with Tovey. It was cute, but took nearly twenty extra minutes. Sara could have made a restroom in the ship, but it was easier to leave it for the time being, and just use the one in the house.

  Roget stayed in the craft the whole time, staring at Tovey and the young boys a bit, and not looking at Tamerlane or Gemma at all. Todd had roused to greet his family, but promptly settled in the very back and fell asleep. It was late for him, it seemed. Terlee shyly ignored Roget back, but Gemma brushed at her shoulder length blonde hair a few times and finally frowned at the man. She didn't say anything, and also wasn't noticed, given how the man so carefully wasn't looking anywhere near her. He glanced at Sara occasionally, which made it seem like they were practically locking eyes compared to what he was doing with the other women.

  When they were finally under way, Sara explained, before the Knight Esquire decided to call the man out for a duel.

  "Men from Tellerand aren't allowed to look at women. It's
considered offensive, and would displease their god, the All High, if they did. Things are different in Noram, but we're in space now, so the rules kind of change again. Harmony rules now, which are pretty fluid. When in doubt, smile and try not to give offense to the best of your ability. You all have good shields?" It was pretty clear that at least Gemma and the boys wouldn't.

  Tovey and Terlee did however, so it only took handing out four of the things from her stash, and sneaking the thing onto Todd as he dozed. She still had ten left, but would need to collect some more when she put in to port.

  The seats were comfortable, but the ride wasn't going to be a long one. The sides and front had windows made of strong shield in them, and the interior was a nice cream and tan mix. Everything inside was nice enough, but not designed to really be comfortable for long term travel. The jump would only take her about a minute. She'd made the trip back and forth from Harmony more than anyone else she thought. Only Prince Gerent came close, unless someone else had started working the route more heavily in her absence.

  The ceiling glowed evenly, which provided a lot of light for them to see by, but washed out all the shadows for the most part. Sara didn't let anyone get nervous about the jump though, since it didn't feel like much of anything. A bit like you were falling a little, but the way she did it, that wouldn't be too bad or take long.

  "There's the Moon!" She called back, mainly for the little boys, only to find Clemance scrambling to the front, to sit in the empty chair next to her. He had to climb up into it, but settled as if he belonged there.

  "Are we going to go there?" A tiny finger pointed in nearly the right direction for not just the other planet, but Harmony itself.

  "That's right. We'll jump first, here, watch this. I have to put my hand here, on the plate under the control unit? Then I just need to imagine two dots, the one closest to me is us, and then another one, which is where I want to go, with a dotted line between them. Then I just imagine sliding the first dot toward the second and hold it there in my head. Like this-"