Thursday, July 18, 2013

Flight or Fight, Chapter 23

Dafi awoke in terror.

It was the early hours of the morning the day before the meeting when she clawed her way out of sleep. The nightmares had changed, but variety had not improved her sleeping patterns. Tonight’s horror featured her being dragged into a handfasting by the corpses of her parents, with the ceremony binding her to a crumbling marble statue. It was not as baffling as having screaming fits over bright white fluffy clouds, for there were no doubts in her mind why the thought of being bound to an immovable object in disrepair was a terrifying prospect to her. Calming her breathing and heartbeat, she listened for footsteps. Either she had been able to wake without screaming, or the soundproofing of the suite was excellent, as no one came to investigate.

In the hospital, there had been Vadim or Ksionski there at the door, knocking to see if she needed the doctor. In the doamnă’s quarters, she was given privacy, which was a blessing, most of the time. She was finally giving free reign to her grief in the hours she was supposed to be sleeping. During that time, she mourned the loss of her father, she remembered what she could of her mother, but she also missed the presence of the sergeant.

Curling up in the berth, she concentrated on keeping her breathing steady, as she reviewed the reasons why she feared the meeting. True, Hasdeu had promised she would not be pressured into signing the contract, but there was always the possibility she would be needed in that aspect by the Baron. If not here and now, there could be a time when it could happen. She tried to not think of it as a threat hanging over her head, but truth be told, being traded to someone to gain peace was not a palatable duty, now more than ever.

Glancing at the clock at her bedside, Dafi noted it was a scant hour before they would be making the long trek to the fencing salle. It was difficult to believe that any space on the airship city was in disuse, but here and there, pockets of difficult-to-get-to or someone-else’s-problem areas could provide a modicum of privacy. She got up to dress without ringing for the maid, knowing the girl had likely gone to bed at least an hour after the “ladies” had retired.

Before retiring the evening before, Doamnă Amelia had suggested that the riding corset would be enough support under the fencing uniform, when at home, Dafi would have done without altogether. Then she recalled that Fraulein Inger had provided another “formal” corset, admitting that the extra boning had been added to protect against blades rather than to control her figure. The fact that the seamstress knew how to make ladies’ formal armor pieces told Dafi more than anything else about the social situation here. The Baron controlled the territory, but he could not completely control someone taking advantage of a situation. She was taught to minimize danger, and guard against attack, so the added armor of the corset was donned before the jacket of the fencing uniform.

There was a knock at the door just as Dafi finished lacing her boots. Taking her saber from its scabbard, she opened the door cautiously. Liesel was in the hallway, and nodded as if her caution was nothing to comment about. “I have tea ready, if you want a cup before we go.” Dafi nodded and sheathed the blade before entering the passageway.

In the sitting room, Doamnă Amelia greeted her with a quiet smile. “We have a few moments before we should go. Tea?”

“Thank you.” Dafi took the cup, and sat with her saber across her knees.

“Not sleeping well?” Amelia’s question was casual - worried, but not in a smothering way. It was asked much in the manner of conversations at the officer’s table at the fortress.

Dafi shook her head, and sipped her tea, “No, and not likely to get better until a long time after Adreev is secure again.”

The older woman nodded in understanding, “Probably a good idea to have a solid workout, and then see if you can rest after breakfast.”

As they finished their cups, Amelia’s maid arrived to clean up. “Weather report called for fine flying conditions this morning, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Flori. We should be back in two hours at the latest.” Taking up their gear bags, Amelia explained, “Fine weather means the arboretum and the cloud decks will be open, getting any other early-risers out of our way.”

“Not that many of the Movila delegation are likely to be out.” Liesel explained in the lift, “From what the downstairs grapevine says, early for them is noon.”

Dafi frowned slightly, “Doamnă has the nobility bringing her gossip at the tea and card tables, you have a link to the servants’ whispers, do either of you have the soldier’s scuttlebut?”

“That’s where we hope you come in, Commandor,” Amelia said with a smile. “Hasdeu, as you saw yesterday, is cautious around me these days. However, if he is on his toes, he might bring a link for us to the salle.” The lift locked into place at their floor,

“The captain he mentioned?” Dafi asked. “We shall see. Not everyone agrees with female officers.”

Their destination, midships just under the squeak deck, was where no-one who wanted to be seen practiced. The salle would be described as “adequate” in size and appointments by the average fencer. Sparsely utilitarian in design, Dafi noticed it was kept clean by somebody, yet it was very lightly worn, if at all. “Why is this not used?”

Liesel dropped her equipment bag on a bench, and retrieved her foil, “Mostly because it’s so out of the way. Additionally, there are also several other areas to practice, some limited to the soldiers, and one specifically for the students, but all the rest are open to visitors. Up here, we are very far from the grand promenades that run down the sides of the ship, so it’s not a place where one can casually show off their skills.” She shrugged. “I’ve heard this is sometimes used by tutors for the students that need help beyond what the fencing clanks can provide. Beyond that, I’m not sure who else uses it.”

“We are permitted to be here, though?” Dafi was worried not so much about getting caught where they should not be, but just being caught out in public.

“Yes, you are,” the answer came from the door. Hasdeu was followed by a Jäeger who carried captain’s rank tabs on his collar. “Doamnă Coșlar-Aed, Dama Coșlar-Aed, Dama Hynter, may I present Captain Fejes?”

Doamnă Coșlar-Aed stood at parade rest with her foil balanced before her. “You may. What news have you, Captain?”

The captain grinned, and moved as if to give them a court bow, but then straightened up to salute. “Ladiez.” Switching to a relaxed stance that could have been distantly related to parade rest, he chuckled, “Hy ken’t tell hyu alla de security meazurez in plaze, bot Hy kin tell hyu zum ov it. De room ve vill be usink vill nut be de cloud deck, as de Movilraz hed reqvested, but de interior conference hall. Dis means it vill be a less public area, vich iz vat you Representatiff reqvested.” The captain gave a short nod to Hasdeu. He then continued, in a gentler tone, “Dere are also no vindows in dat hall, as vun ov mein sergeanten soggezted. Vun less ting vor us to vatch.”

Dafi frowned slightly, ruthlessly stomping the thrill that she felt at the mention of a sergeant. Noting that Amelia and Liesel were armed with foils she asked, “Are there other arms available for practice?” She gestured with her saber, intended for cavalry use more than the piste, but it was still her preferred blade.

“Ho! Hyu are practicink?” This time the captain did execute a florid ballroom bow, and came up with a long dagger in his hand, “May Hy hef dis dance?”

Dafi noted that Hasdeu was relaxed, even settling in to watch the show, so she saluted the captain. “I would be delighted, sir.” She stepped into the ready stance the eastern schools used.

The captain laughed and leapt at her, but his arc was higher than a traditional lunge. Dafi dropped to the left, opposite of the captain’s weapon-hand, and blocked his attack. Her use of the leg-sweep was cheating by competition rules, but apparently not unexpected, as he jumped it nicely, twisting to grab her ankle. She used her other leg to pin his arm as she kicked out of the grip then pushed off his back to regain her feet. Fejes pursued her, but rather than be backed into the corner, she charged him, planting her shoulder in his solar plexus, and managing to keep out of the sweep of his blade by dropping and rolling again coming up in the guard stance she learned from the Torinesi swordmaster at the academy.

The odd sound of the captain giggling made Dafi pause to see if he was alright, and he called a halt, “No vonder vot leetle brains he got hef torned to porrich! Hyu izt a schneaky gorl, Hy like dot.” Fejes sheathed his blade, moving to one of the benches against the wall. “He did say hyu took out four guyz in da schtreet fight, Hy chouln’t be zurprized.”

Dafi whispered, “I needed help with the last one.” She kept her grip on her saber, but was shaky on her feet as she went to sit beside him. “Is... is he alright?”

“He’z nut sleepin’ propah, bot at least he ain’t tryink to drink de airchip fuel.” The Jäger shrugged with a small smile. “Hyu vorriet ‘bout him?”

“Yes, I am. He was my responsibility,” she stopped and shook her head, “but I worry too much, he is a strong warrior, he took care of himself for years before we met, he will be fine without...”

“He mizzez hyu.”

Dafi stilled, listening to the ring of the Coșlar-Aed foils as they practiced more conventionally on the piste. Hasdeu was across the salle from them, watching the ladies fence, but Dafi kept her voice low. “I miss him as well, but I cannot ask him to make himself a target.”

“Nah, Hy know. Bot, hyu know, vunce ve get dis Movila keed schtraightent oot,” the captain shrugged, expressively, “hyu could ask vor, say, a platoon ov guyz or zo, to help mit der clean-op und zome huntink, ja? Hyur poppa, he vas a goot guy, solid fighter, ve vant to help. Iz vy der rest ov us volunteeredt, ven Dal asked to be hyur guard et der meetink.”

“He volunteered...” Dafi frowned, sighing. “and I am not strong enough to say no.”

“Hy tink hyu ist nut eskink der right qvestion, ne?” Fejes chortled.

“If I were permitted to ask that question for myself, it would have been asked before we left Tânărăjugul.” Dafi rubbed her eyes. “I would very much like to have your platoon at the fortress, but that would be too tempting.”

“Ho, chust az vell,” the captain chuckled, “Hy gotz to schneak my schveetie haway from her mama to der chapel before ve go mit hyu. Bot hyu dun need to miss hyu opportunity vhen hyu getz to chooz, ja?”

“I will keep my eyes open,” Dafi stared off into nothingness, contemplating her future, “but I know what I will be required to do, eventually.” Her tone did not hide her sorrow.

“Pfft, hyu izt two ov a kindt. Op!” Fejes lunged from his seat and hauled her up with him, “Hyu mopink too moch, ve needt to get hyu a vorkout!” He then put Dafi through as thorough a sparring session as she had ever had, in school or in active duty.

He was right about one thing, it did clear her head of cobwebs, and made her tired enough to sleep dreamlessly when the ladies returned to their quarters.

~=*=~

Dalibor was worried enough to take himself off to the gymnasium before the nervous energy he was expressing was reflected in his squad. Yet another day without an assignment, and they were already keyed up. Tomorrow was to be the meeting, and most of the Jägers in his platoon were in the process of shining up whatever they considered their mess dress uniforms. Some had not wanted to bother, until the rumor about there being at least one warrior-woman there to impress.

He had not bothered to point out that to them that the most dangerous woman there would likely be the fiancée-elect, but it had also not let it stop him from making sure his formal uniform was in proper order last night, and that he still had mourning-bands for it.

Meeting Fejes coming into the barracks complex as he was leaving, he raised an eyebrow when the captain reversed course to accompany him. Dal was silent, striding along the corridor, thankful there was none of the usual banter. However, Fejes strolled along with him, grinning in the manner of the cat who caught the canary. A Jägermonster with a satisfied smirk was not the most frightening of expressions, but it was among the most disturbing. The effect was such that everyone gave them a wide berth as they headed for the gymnasium.

The smirk, combined with Dalibor’s thundercloud expression served to clear the smaller of the wrestling arenas of spectators. Generally speaking, when two Jägermonsters were at odds, getting out of the line of fire was the wisest course. He had no idea why the captain was so pleased with the world, but is definitely served to make Dal even more irritated. The first thing Fejes said in the ring made things worse.

“Hy talked to hyu gorlfrien dis morning. Sche izt vorse den hyu mit der moping aboot.”

Dalibor had enough, and launched himself at Fejes, growling. However, the captain was a better wrestler, and quickly had Dal pinned. “Hyu gonna behave or am Hy gonna have to mop de floor mit hyu?” After a few moments of silence, he continued, “She izt hokay, bot she dun like de idea ov marryink der Movilas keed. Hy t’ink she vants hyu.”

Dal kicked and rolled, “Hy know! Hy also know vy she ken’t say zo!” His anger flared again, and without being able to change the societal pressures in play, he vented his rage into the wrestling match. When it came to wrestling Fejes, the rage only added strength, not skill.

The captain pinned him again, “Ho, zo dot’s how de vind blows. Hyu tell her hyu vant her?”

“No! She feelz bad enough az it iz!” Dalibor struggled to free himself, but Fejes had a firm grip. “Hy dun need to mek it vorse!” Then the fight drained out of him. “Hy know vat izt holdink her beck, und onless ve kin change de vorld overnight, hit vill still be de same tomorrow.”

“Perhaps the world has been changing enough to give you a starting point.” Hasdeu said from the door as he closed it behind him. “She still is not required to sign by the Baron’s plans for the meeting. That was never part of the scenario.”

“If nut de Movilras keed, den somevun else, down de line.” Dalibor muttered into the mat. “Izt de vay of de feudal zyztem.”

“Tch, nut like de oldt dayz hannymore, hyu know?” Fejes let him up, and stepped out of the ring. “Hyu know dot de Baron dun kip de gorlz from de jobz dey kin do. Und he dun care vot de Fifty t’ink of vat he do.”

“Well, there is some consideration given to public opinion, but for the most part, that’s accurate.” Hasdeu sat on the edge of the ring.

“Ja... bot hyu schtay off dis scent!” Dal pointed at the captain. “Hyu go arount bein a village baba, hyu vatch out. Hy kin still talk to hyu gorl’z mama!”

“Oh, realllly?” Hasdeu chuckled. “I did not know you were courting in earnest, Captain. Should we start filing the paperwork?”

“Hyu schtay oot ov dis, keed. Hy gotz der goot plen. Hyu dun needtz to mess it op.” Fejes growled. Dalibor chuckled, then turned to Hasdeu. “Hyu come in goot time, Nistor. Ve gotz zum newz on de Moviloraş crew.” he nodded, dropping to sit beside him. “Hyu know dot der boy izt tryink to pay hiz porsonal debtz?”

“Heard something about that, and the rumor is he has fewer trunks than anyone in his retinue. The only clothes he has are traditional pieces owned by the house, not him.” Hasdeu sat thinking a few moments, “You have contact with someone in his group?”

“He gotz zum oldt freindz der crowz hain’t skeered off dot vant to get dey fishink buddy beck alive and in vun piece.” Dalibor mused. “Hy tink dey kin help mit der clean-up. Dese boyz iz villing to see vat izt goink on outside der valls.”

“You know, the new crop of nobles are from the first set of students that were here.” Hasdeu looked thoughtful. “Good to know the school provided some of them with new ideas.”

“New ideaz dot de Baron soggeztet, ja?” Fejes chuckled. “Like zeeink ‘dis ist der vay ve allus did it’ ain’t allus a goot reazon vor doink zomezink?”

“Maybe so, maybe no - but they are definitely thinking about consequences, and not just to themselves, anymore.” Hasdeu turned his gaze inward as he studied the problem. “I have reported to the higher-ups about Dama’s actions above and beyond the letter of the rule. They know she is willing to follow orders, but that there are some that will take a lot of reasoning for her to accept.”

Dal lay back on the wrestling mat, muttering, “Sche desorvez bettah.”

“Zo! Ve getz schtarted un de papervork to be azzined to Adreev now, or after ze veddink?” Fejes chuckled.

“Ho! Din’ know hyu had azked hyu gorl already, Keptin! Ven hyu gettink married?” Dal asked, then quickly rolling out of Fejes’s reach.

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