She finally gave in when Dalibor rumbled, “Ve oughta get ha orly schtart, ja?”
“Mm.” She got up away from the window, and began putting the rest of her uniform together.
“Hyu hokay?”
“Somewhere inside is a little brat throwing a tantrum because she cannot have what she wants, but I can keep her from showing up in public and embarrassing you.” Dafi’s voice was light, but strained.
“Hy dunno, schould I spank her if she do show up?” Dal’s grin was teasing.
Dafi tossed his uniform jacket at his head. “Like to see you try, mister.”
He caught it, grinning. “Hyu is soch a flirt.”
After a quick breakfast, Eliezer gave Dafi her a collection of the ten oldest tales that he had documented, in one of his scholarly research books. "Always good to have something to read."
“Thank you, I look forward to when I can call you professor.”
They slipped out the back of the shop, with directions to the Baron’s Gate. Officially, the gates would not open until an hour after dawn, to give the watch good light to guard by. Dafi hoped they could leave earlier, if only to keep the spies from delaying them any longer.
When they reached the gate, the guard was already on alert. Checking the papers, the officer on duty nodded. “Glad you were early risers, Captain warned us you were coming, but not when. Only thing this road goes to is the courier station, and we haven’t had anyone else come through.”
“How far to de station?” Dalibor asked.
“Half a day’s march, standard time.” The gate officer noted their passage in the log, with the time blank. “If you push a little, you might make the midday run, if the weather holds.”
Dafi nodded, and thanked him. Once outside the gates, she started on a faster speed than the standard march.
When they were out of earshot of the gate, Dal asked, “Goin’ a bit fast, Dafi? Hy don’t mind, but vot abou hyu?”
Her voice was tight, “He did not mention the weather on a whim. After living in the mountains most of my life, I can smell it - there is a heavy rain on the wind.”
Dal raised his head and inhaled, “Ho, ja - ist goin’ to be close.”
The skies darkened as they marched, and the wind picked up when they were in sight of the station, howling around the peaks. Dafi noted the courier ships were being closed up in their hangars as the two of them reached the complex. The guards at the gate made note of their credentials, and one of their number was dispatched to escort them to the station commander.
Comandor Ioan Lungu was a double-decade veteran, and one did not get that far in a military career without a few cautions. He also carefully checked their credentials before dismissing the guard. Once the door was closed, he said, “There’s quite a few people that have been asking for news of you, Dama. Not all of them have the need to know about you, though.”
“Has there been any word from Adreev?” Dafi asked.
“Nothing that makes sense. Heliographs from there are being fumbled, on a regular basis. Only the most mundane of very basic, routine messages is being sent in the clear.” Lungu raised an eyebrow. “Seems as if someone is trying very hard to let us know something is wrong, without actually reporting it.”
“It most likely means that my people are still in the tower, but they are being watched.” Dafi frowned. “I would have to see the specific errors in the messages to be sure. Alternately, if they have untrained personnel in the tower, the routine messages going clear means someone knows very little of what they are doing.”
The comandor nodded, “Figured it was something like that. For the time being, we can keep you under wraps, until we can deliver you to the Castle. Right now, it’s not a huge issue - we’re socked in. No ships or messages in or out in this weather. These autumn storms blow in, and we never know how long we’ll be grounded. I can pretty much see from the sky report that we’ll be closed in until nightfall, at least.”
“How much warning will we get that the next courier can get out?”
“Sometimes, not more than a half-hour, so even though we can give you bunk space, don’t unpack completely. The station is going to busy for the next hour, with the weather change and the new shift coming on duty. To be honest, the fewer people that see you, the less I worry, Dama.”
“Hyu t’ink hyu got ha mole?”
Lungu shook his head, “Not on staff, but this is an open site. The staff can go into town when the weather permits, and we get townies up to the heliograph office.”
“Hm,” Dal exchanged a look with Dafi, flicking his eyes to a Mustafa-Svilin certification on the wall before he said, “Ve might need a chair beside da door.”
Dafi raised an eyebrow, but showed no other sign of her surprise at Dalibor using one of the old codes for the Bergrisar. She turned to the station commander to see his reaction.
“I think we have one with three legs,” Comandor Lungu responded.
“What kind of cover can we get from the heliograph office, and can we send out some bits of disinformation?” Dafi asked, making a hand-signal of recognition.
“It could take a little bit of shuffling, but we can keep you out of sight of most of the front desk crew. There’s a few messages we can send as smoke screen for you, once the towers are clear, both once the fog lifts, and when you’re in transit.” he scratched his chin. “If the two of you don’t mind, I think I’d better bunk you in my quarters. My predecessor had childer, and their rooms have been made over to guest rooms. That keeps you from having to use the barracks facilities, and out of sight for the most part. We’ve done this before, especially with mixed courier pairs, so it won’t excite a lot of attention. Just as well, there’s no room in either of the barracks, with the crews that got grounded by the storm.” He had been writing orders, and passed it to Dafi. “Anything else you want to add to the messages?”
She read it over, and shook her head. “Anything else can wait for official debriefing. We have at least six hours before any possible break in the storm, you said.”
The comandor nodded, “Helio reports ahead of the storm gave us the pattern, with the instruments we have here. There’s a chance of a break at nightfall, but more likely tomorrow.” Lungu shrugged, “Autumn in the mountains, you never know. This blow could ground the airships for six to seventy hours.“
She nodded, “Sounds like the weather back home, when there is not someone meddling with it.”
He stood, motioning them to gather their packs, “Ayah, since this is normal weather for around here, we’ve got stout, tight buildings, and a good cook,” He dropped the orders in his yeoman’s outgoing message tray as they exited the office, turning further down the hall, away from the bustle of the base battening down for the storm. “... and if you overlook some of the shelves, a pretty fair library for a military post.”
“I grew up in the fortress,” Dafi chuckled, ”I likely know which shelves you do not think are appropriate for a lady.”
Dalibor chuckled, and Comandor Lungu raised an eyebrow as they reached the officers’ residential section. “Ah, I didn’t say they weren’t for ladies, which would be true, but you being a veteran, you won’t be shocked. Just sayin’ that some of them aren’t written as good as others.”
~=*=~
Supper in the comandor’s quarters could have been horrible for Dafi, but thankfully, Lungu’s rooms were nothing like her father’s. Apparently, the command here changed over about once a decade, as it was not a feudalist holding, built after the town and county were established. Dafi could see the benefits of the system here, but until she was released from her oaths by the Baron, she still would uphold her responsibilities.
The only unpleasant part of the evening was that the officer was a smoker, and had a taste for the horrid blend of weeds airmen tended to bring back with them after patrolling the Mediterranean. Dafi sat opposite the fireplace from him, having discovered that the chimney drew well and the draft took most of the smoke with it. It may have been the favored spot for the previous commander’s spouse, as the chair on that side was intended for someone with a petite frame. Dafi was almost too tall for the delicate wingback, but she was the only one of the three who could fit in it.
Reading the reports of the heliograph problems noted in Adreev’s messages, she nodded. “The mistakes are part of our internal code. It means Peynirci is probably still in charge of the helio tower.” She kept her voice steady, but was relieved. “He was one of the patrol with me at the academy, but not one of the... supper club?” She raised an eyebrow to the others.
Dalibor looked up from his section of the reports, and nodded. “He dos goot mit de coding, making many mistakes bot only t’ree consistent-like.”
“Yes, the ones for ‘duress’ and ‘traitor’ didn’t get noted in the helio occurrence reports, probably because none of them were academy.” Lungu puffed on his pipe a moment, “Old Sarge Etxarte loved rambling on about the Roman codes, glad to see I wasn’t the only one to stay awake in his classes.”
“The third one is from Madame Sabões’s class on genealogy,” Dafi said. “It means ‘heir missing, presumed alive’ which I hope to keep as accurate until I can report in.”
There was a knock on the door, and Lungu crossed to open it, rather than bid them come in. Dafi had noted the room was arranged to be defensible by one person when they entered earlier. Now it made eavesdropping on the conversation difficult. She frowned, but then caught Dal winking at her, as he made the signal for silence. When the station commander returned, he handed another two reports to Dafi. “Helio’s socked in by fog, now. Looks by the weather that we have another day before this lets up, by the models. That second one is the last message from the south before the storm.”
She scanned it quickly, then read it again, carefully. “Ah. Peynirci is still in control, but just barely. I think... I will need to add another message, to be sent after we depart. But the content will possibly change between now and then. Still, considering the unpredictable weather, we should sleep while we can.”
“Hyu go on, comander, Hy got forst watch.” Dal stood, stretching. “Vun uf us chould be avake in case dere's enough uf a break in de veadder for launch.”
Dafi tilted her eyebrow at his thickening accent, but nodded. “Regular shifts, then. Goodnight, sir, sergeant.” She went to the guest room, and cognizant of the vagaries of mountain storms, she only took off her boots and jacket to prepare for bed.
She was not quite ready for sleep, so stretched out on the bunk with the night-lantern lit, and began reading the book Eliezer had gifted her. If it was dry scholarship, it might help her nod off.
~=*=~
Dalibor knew how little sleep Dafi had gotten the night before, if only because he had been awake for most of the night himself. After seeing her to the door, he returned to his spot on the hearthrug. He was good for another eight hours, if needed, but would wake her in four, to keep her from being angry.
Lungu finished his pipe, and began the process of cleaning it, as carefully as one would clean a firearm. “Didn’t know there were any Jägermonstern at Mustafa-Svilin.”
Dal chuckled, “Dere veren' - it vas chust Svilin ven Hy vas dere.”
That stopped Lungu’s hands, just long enough to telegraph his surprise. “Hm. You were one of the founders of the Bergrisar?”
“Na, Hy vas dere mebbe... fifty or so years after dat? Long enough dat dere vere legacy members chowink up. Zum uf de founder's children vere faculty by den.” Dalibor kept his eyes on the fire, watching the comandor with his peripheral vision.
“And did the Heterodyne know he got a peace-monger in with the rest of his monsters?”
“Pfft. Teach hyu granfa to chew cheese, heh? Jägermonstern kin be schneaky if needs be.”
The comandor completed his pipe maintenance in silence, before he quietly asked, “You were around for the Six, then?”
Dal frowned, still looking into the fire. “Hy vas.”
“My granfa was a powder monkey as a lad on the Elektra. Ever since I was a baby, I heard the story of the coded message that saved his ship, and his life. I got to the academy, and learned more of the story. One of the common pastimes when I was there was trying to figure out who of us were helping out where in history.”
“Ho! Dat could hef been hennybody, hyu know how lots uf pipple vere on both sides back den.” Dalibor shrugged, as if it were no big deal.
“I’ve wondered if I’d ever get the chance to thank their grandsons for the chance to live, and it’s probably lost to history. But it’s why I sponsored my nieces to the academy, in case they have what it takes to pay it forward.” Lungu slowly rose, stretching and yawning. “Ah well, sack-time for me. Kettle and tea in that cabinet, if you need, and the drinking water is in the jug. Good hunting, sergeant.”
Dalibor waited until the comandor closed the door behind him to murmur “you are welcome, lad.”
~=*=~
When Dal woke her, the book was on the shelf, though she knew she dozed off while reading. The story was good, but the week had been wearying on her. That, and the nightmares had returned.
Dal was holding her again, as he had at the inn, murmuring, “Ist de nightmare, vake op, iatagandraga...”
This time, it was easier for her to pull out of sleep, murmuring, “hrm, awake... not loud?”
“Nah, I vos list’n for de cues.” He waited until she was aware before he murmured quietly, “De ensign at de door last night vas chust a keed, und had ha local acceent. Comander told him ve vere couriers, nut needing special officer treatment.”
Dafi slid her legs out from under the covers, but not yet reaching for her boots, asked quietly, “You are keeping your accent for the practice?”
He sat beside her on the bunk, “Aye - ist for de best, ja?”
“I think so.” Another thing she would not need to hear was how melodious his voice was when he spoke in his own tounge. It was as enticing as waking up with him. “You sleep, I’ll wake you when they bring breakfast.” Leaving her boots, she retrieved the book to read in the parlor.
~=*=~
After the first day, with the wind still whistling around the windows, Dafi had finished Not-Professor Bârsănescu’s book between shifts of sleeping to catch up on her rest.
The book was well written, not falling too far into either the writing style of the entertaining tale-spinner or the dry academic. Traditional Third Son stories, according to Eliezer’s brief introduction, started appearing approximately in the early 1600's. Also, they started in the Movila duchy, and spread out from there. The next century saw the spread of the tales into the other districts of Europa. With the appearance of the Heterodyne Boys and the Baron's rise to power, stories similar to the Third Son began to crop up all over the empire. If a neighboring duchy had such tales, they were quickly adopted into the story cycle.
As she read through the stories, she began to see why Eliezer’s work might have caught someone’s attention. There were references to historical documents that tied back to the earliest appearance of a tale with the analysis of what effect the Third Son had on the politics of the area.
By the end of the book, Dafi was on fire to know more. She did not think she would find her dagger in her pillow, as she had no intention to publish, but it was dangerous territory. There were high-ranking nobles, and some with connections to the Fifty Families that were not presented in a flattering light by these tales. The ones in the groschenroman that she had found so far were whitewashed, the names of the nobility not mentioned, but now that she had the clues, she thought it would be possible to puzzle out which families were being satirized as the cause of the problems Third Son had to solve. Dafi considered what she knew so far, and thought there might be more here, close to Movila, than anywhere but the Baron’s personal library. Considering her odds of gaining access to either, she thought it best to strike while the iron was hot.
While the storm raged on at breakfast that morning, Dafi asked for directions to the library.
Lungu rubbed his chin, considering. “Hm, shift starts in about an hour, so about a half-hour after that, the corridors between here and there should be mostly empty. I’ll give you a pass for the library, but take one of the clipboards by the door with you. With one of those and a purposeful walk, you’re less likely to be stopped.”
Dafi and Dal both chuckled over that age-old dodge, and Dal spoke up. “Hy tink Hy'll schtay here, de base iz secure enough, but if ve are seen togedder, dere's more pipple who might be curious, ne?”
“Good thought. What arms are usually carried off duty, sir?”
“Not much, though your rank would allow boot-knives. I can’t really comment on what I can’t see, though.” Lungu shrugged and finished his tea. “I’ll write a pass for you to carry with you to the library, but I’ll also let the captain know you are coming”
~=*=~
Dafi had taken Lungu’s warning to heart. After he had left, she rummaged through her pack for her wrist sheaths and had forgone the boot-knives. It would not do to be give the gossips an easy tell like that. Dalibor played batman for her, making sure her jacket was properly brushed and her boots polished before letting her leave the quarters.
The library was easy to find, and normally would have had light coming in the narrow slit windows. But the storm had kept the skies dark, necessitating the lamps to be lit. At home, there had been just a few electric lamps, but here there were dozens, making the reading room bright without danger of fire. She marveled for a moment, thinking it would be grand to update the map room at Adreev. Then she remembered she would not be able to ask her father about the renovation. It was with a muted sadness that she turned to seek out the librarian.
The base library had the expected extensive and lovingly-catalogued smut collection behind the captain’s desk. The captain turned out to be a very strict-looking older lady, who wore the insignia of the Heliolux. Her manner brightened considerably when Dafi asked for the local history records section.
“Oh, yes - we cover this and the neighboring duchies.” She gave Dafi a smile with the barest wink. “Have to know which family jewels you’re kicking, after all.” She guided Dafi to a table, and pointed out the shelves. “Prahova is here, then in order by the stations. These have to stay in the library, but this cabinet has foolscap and pencils for your notes. I will be at the desk if you need any help.”
Dafi thanked the captain, and when the officer had returned to her station, Dafi turned to the Movila shelf.
