Valentine

I tapped lightly on the door, and after a moment, pushed it open.

Constance was standing near the window, looking out at the street below. She glanced up as I entered, and I saw that she'd shaken off the wild-eyed fear that had gripped her since we pulled her from the tavern. She was clad in an oversized sack dress that Amity had found for her. Though the gynoid had recovered Constance's tunic, the fight had covered it in bits of elf, and she'd yet to clean it.

The once-Baroness was still worse for wear, but she was noble. Though she lacked my own experience, it was not her first time present at a bloody battle. Though I expected this was the first she viewed bound and gagged while lying on the floor.

"What is to be done with me now?" Constance asked quietly.

"Wallace has decided to offer you a place with us. If you want, he will inform Temerity that you're under his protection."

Constance's eyes went very wide, and she gawped like a fish out of water, "Thank you. Yes, I'll stay."

"Don't thank me. You're a millstone around all our necks," I replied coldly, "Temerity has already made Wallace an offer that makes it clear she expects him to enter her service. Were it up to me, I'd make an offering of you. Exchange your hide for Temerity's continued benign neglect. Wallace refused. He is the one you have to thank."

Constance frowned, and it took her several moments to gather her thoughts.

Finally, she spoke, "If not you, then who spoke on my behalf?"

"No one. It was Wallace's decision alone."

She spread her arms, her expression belying a total lack of comprehension, "He cast me out, turned the tavern into an abattoir rather than accept D'Amore's fealty, and then decides to take me in? Are all humans mad?"

"You're no longer a threat, at least by his reasoning. Your loyal men are dead, as are the traitors who slew them. What have you left?" I lifted my chin in her direction, "Not even the clothes on your back. As Wallace told you when you first arrived, he likely would have granted you sanctuary had you come alone. And now, you are alone."

"I find it hard to accept the same man who so callously brushed me aside and slaughtered D'Amore's mutineers would be so kind."

"Wallace will deny it, refuse to accept it, but he is liege of these lands. Intelligent, wise, and strong, he is a good leader. Willing to negotiate with his foes when possible, utterly merciless when it becomes necessary, and kind to his allies. Perhaps too kind," I mused, "But having seen what you have today, I trust you will not betray that kindness.

I led Constance downstairs where we found Wallace holding court. He'd dressed since his meeting with Constance and now sat before two of the villagers in some of the clothing Amity had made for him. Wally's Earth clothing was not the most presentable at the moment, what with all the blood and stab wounds. Regina lay on the carpet next to Wallace, with Amity seated against her, idly playing with the sphinx's hair. Phoebe was sitting to Wallace's left. With her legs crossed and hands folded in her lap, she looked very prim. Though I think we both noticed the villagers stealing a peek at where her tunic rode up to reveal her bare calf.

I held out a staying hand to Constance. Her eagerness to thank him was plain, yet he was in the middle of something.

"That's up to you. Your daughter said there was a worry you'd have a hard time finding the manpower to plough the fields, use the horses for that. Hell, eat them if that's what you prefer. They're yours as long as you can keep them."

"And, uh-" one of the villagers nodded towards Constance, and Wallace turned, noticing us for the first time.

"You don't have a problem with it, do you, Constance?" Wallace asked.

She shook her head quickly, "Not at all."

"So it's settled then," Wallace continued, returning his gaze to the villager, "The horses are yours. How long do you think it will take to get the fields ploughed with their help?"

"Er, I suppose I'll need to forge some sort of plough for them to pull," the villager replied, and I realized then that he was Rohesia's father, the village smith. "Mayhap a week?"

"Including the land around the town here?"

"'Nother day or two?" the smith guessed.

"Fine, by the time you've got the ground ready, I should be back with some seed. There are some other tricks we can do to increase yield, and in the meantime, if you need more food, we can ship it in from Caniforma."

"Thank you, milord."

"I'm not your lord," Wallace sighed, "'Wallace' is fine."

"Of course, milord," the smith nodded, "I did have one question..."

"Rohesia and Aldith are safe. They came to my base to complain about the Prince. Well, the Prince is gone now, so I guess they got what they wanted."

"Not to worry. I'll give them a ride back once we make it to the base," Amity promised.

"We'll be making a run to the city, so if you need anything, tell Amity when she drops off Rohesia."

"Of course, milord."

Wallace rubbed his temples and turned his tired gaze on Constance and me, "Now, if you'll excuse me?"

The blacksmith nodded, beating a hasty retreat, "Thank you, milord."

"I'm still not your lord, but you're welcome."

The bell over the door rang as the two men left, and Constance had already taken a knee in front of Wallace before the bell had stilled.

"Thank you, my-" she hesitated, "Wallace."

With Phoebe at his beck and call, Amity and Regina at his feet, and the noblewoman brought low before him. I couldn't help but feel a thrill. Wallace would deny it, but we all knew who ruled here.

"I guess it's better than milord. And you're welcome. I just wish things would have worked out better."

Constance was still on her knees, looking up at Wallace through her lashes, "You do?" she asked.

Wallace gestured for her to rise, and she did, "Yeah, I didn't have anything against you, Constance. But I didn't want my people to get caught between you and Temerity."

"What will you tell her?"

"The truth, almost," Wallace replied, "That all of your men have been killed. That you're just one disgraced noble, and a threat to no one. That I'll keep you as a harmless trophy unless she antagonizes me. In which case I'll hand you over to Simon, and he'll use you to press a claim on Parabuteo."

"And the truth will be... different?"

Wallace shrugged, "Sure."

The small human vehicle was even more cramped with Constance along, and I gave up my seat in the cab, taking the journey instead in Wally's lap.

It felt to me that the journey took ages. With the sky utterly black, lacking both the sun or Father, and dawn a long way off, I had no manner in which to judge the passage of time. Further, with Regina seated very near, the pressure of everything I was leaving unsaid made me feel as if I were about to burst.

Wally made it bearable, holding me close and nuzzling my hair.

Amity brought the truck to a halt in the shadow of Cassius's ramp, and Wallace helped me out of the truck, lifting me easily about the waist. The suspension creaked as he and Regina hopped out, and Wallace stretched his arms to the sky. He caught himself halfway through, wincing as the motion tugged on the stitching in his shoulder.

I realized as the light from my torch fell across the foot of the ramp, that Cassius had continued to polish his work while we'd been away. No doubt in an attempt to avoid the village girl he'd strung along.

The thick-headed human should just do the sensible thing and bed them both. Or at the very least have the stones to talk to the girl.

The ramp was much flatter than it had been. The series of logs that had made up its surface had been moulded like clay until each one blended into the other. I could see the seam where one log ended and the next began, but it formed one unbroken platform from the bottom to the landing above. Though transmuted to stone, the ramp had maintained the rough texture of bark. At first, I judged it sloppy work. Horses wouldn't have the easiest time making the climb. But upon consideration, realized that it would be ideal for the truck, particularly in poor weather.

We crossed the narrow bridge from the landing to the base proper one at a time, and I looked forward to the moment the drawbridge proper would be put in place.

Lifting my torch, I could see the bridge itself had already been built and placed to the side, though it would be useless without the mechanism to raise and lower it.

My worry was more for Wallace than myself. I hesitate to refer to Regina's grace as 'cat-like', but set low to the ground, and with four legs, I had no cause to doubt her balance. But Wallace is not the most agile of men at the best of times, and while the improvised bridge felt spacious to me, watching Wallace cross it made it seem suddenly like a tightrope.

"Amity?" Wallace asked once he crossed.

"I'll find her a room."

"You're the best."

With the rush of adrenaline long since passed, Wally's shoulder had gone stiff with the pain of his wounds. It made it difficult for him to lift his arm above his head, so helped him out of his shirt, and was reminded of when we'd first arrived at the hotel. I'd been shot in the shoulder, and though my flight suit had prevented the bullet from tearing a hole through my flesh, it had mangled my shoulder and left a tremendous bruise.

He'd helped me dress and wash my hair while I recovered. While I still looked back on the time as a romantic one, it now felt like part of a pattern, instead of something special.

I couldn't help but think what might have happened if he'd taken my advice. Had I gone with him rather than Regina-

"Stop that," Wallace said absently.

I froze. Seated behind him on the bed, I'd found the tin of healing ointment, and had begun to spread some of it on his wounds. I'd been too lost in thought to pay much attention to what I was doing. Had I not been gentle enough?

Wallace looked back, an amused expression on his face, "Not that," he clarified, "You're doing your whole 'I'm useless' routine."

"It's hard, Wallace. I try, but I need so much help just to keep up with everyone else. My amulet, the flight suit, they're just the beginning of it."

"Do you need me to explain to you, in detail, why you're so great?"

"Yes please," I replied in a small voice.

"I can count on you," he insisted, "You're the perfect amount of crazy. Phoebe's got some balls, and she can fight better than anyone I ever trained with. But she seems, you know, like a normal person. Or normal elf, I guess. Felicity's nice, but she hasn't got Phoebe's skills, and she's a little skittish. Cassius, well, you were there when I told him why he had to stay behind. He's good with magic though, especially anything technical or infrastructure-related. Regina, well, she's a fucking tank. That's why I brought her instead of you. I knew whatever they had to throw at us, she could take. But there's not a ton she can do outside of fighting. She's still having trouble with even basic magic, and even in a fight, she gets a little out of control. At least the tavern was a brawl. I'm not sure she'd have the presence of mind needed to work as a team once her blood was up. Amity is a close second, and she's the reason everyone stays fed and the building so tidy, but I'm still a little worried about her. You remember when we were putting her back together with the parts she picked out. She could have cut the Prince to ribbons, but still couldn't find the courage to face him. The Prince is dead now, so that's less of a problem, but I worry about what might happen if something new challenges her in the same way. Pretty much everyone on the team has their strengths, but they lack your drive."

I'd been feeling a little guilty, thinking I was going to get showered in praise. But if this was all he had to say, it left me feeling a little cold.

"Is that it?" I muttered.

"Is that it," Wallace reached behind him, caught the front of my flight suit, and hauled me around to his front, "Training matters a hell of a lot, physical ability, talent, it's all important. But it's useless without the willingness to fight that you have. I don't care how well someone is trained. If I find myself looking over my shoulder to make sure they're still keeping up, they're a burden. It's not some sappy bullshit. It's about staying alive in seriously deadly situations. If someone is afraid, or nervous, or not committed to the cause, they might hesitate at an important moment. When the time comes to charge, they may hang back. Or the pressure might get to them, and they'll fumble something simple. You've done the surveyor thing, tell me I'm wrong."

I shook my head, "I suppose I understand what you're saying."

Wally shook me gently by the front of the flight suit, "But I can count on you to have my back no matter what. I don't need to look over my shoulder to check you're still there. I know you're there. I don't need to worry that you'll buckle under pressure and fumble something because pressure seems to get you kinda horny. Which is honestly pretty freaky, but I can roll with it. I don't need to worry that you'll be too afraid to charge into a fight, because as you've proven, there doesn't seem to be much you're afraid of. When Amity was hiding in the back of the workshop from the Prince, you bought us the time we needed to finish. Also, you're really good at magic, very pretty, awfully intelligent, and I really like how you look naked," Wallace regarded me wryly, "Do you feel better now?"

I bit my lip and smiled, nodding my agreement.

Wally ruffled my hair, "So no more of this lame self-pity nonsense, got it?"

"Yes, my lord."

Wally put a hand to his forehead, "I swear to god."

I hopped off the covers, and knelt beside the bed, grinning like an idiot, "Shall I kneel before my lord? Or perhaps I should demonstrate my submission to my liege in another manner?"

Wallace seemed ready to reply with something biting, but his tired expression melted into a wry smile. He spread his arms and looked down at himself. His fingers gingerly probed the wound under his ribs, the one Amity had stitched up for him.

"Sorry, Val. I think playtime will have to wait. It's bad enough I've got to deal with you. Amity'll give me no end of grief if I burst these stitches."

I leapt to my feet and took his hand, "Fine, a bath then. And we can find out how long I can hold my breath."