The Patchwork Warriors#15

The second half of CHAPTER 7, in which threads start to be drawing in tighter due to Migran and Trelli……………………….

 

 

Karlyn comfy in her perch, twitched and opened one eye. The night was still, clear and clean. Even Custoady Meradat was asleep. Fair enough. So just what was buzzing about, this time then?

She had the oddest notion about them pixie folk being mischiefs and flitting their wings in her nostrils.

They’d better not start arse-squeaking!

 

Dragged from a bothered sleep Trelli first thought the furtive noise at the door was Tumble the family’s self-important cat insisting, as was his wont, to some sort of nocturnal attention from her; his personal servant, but then there was a hoarse, desperate, pleading whisper which could only be Migran.

“What you want?” she hissed, too tired, cold and cross to be civil.

“Trelli, I must show you something,”

The doughty and indefatigable Cook Murtha had lectured Trelli at great length and with much disparaging about the inclinations sons of Households. Afore that the devoteds of the Libratery orphanage had explained to those girls leaving childhood behind of the natures of men and women. And neither source would have counselled her to be opening her door, but seeing as how she was still furious at Migran, she felt inclined to give him another taste of her displeasure.

“You get back to your room right now! Otherwise I shall raise my voice and call out ‘Oooh Master Migran cover yourself up! What do you intend with me!!’ And then you try and explain that to your mum and dad!!” the memory of that parting interlude still very clear in her mind.

Migran winced, some of his associates did seem to be allowed to be ‘affable’ to their serving girls, but his parents ever solid, honest and upright in everything but the family business had made it quite clear when Trelli had arrived that there would be no ‘taking advantages’. There had been more than one long lecture on morals and responsibilities. Anyway until these past days Trelli had been the only one in the house who had not treated him in a manner suggesting he was someone to be cossetted from a world that might gobble him up. She’d almost been a sort of friend-ish person. He could not afford to lose her respect and, well he had best not think about anything else! He did so wish to explain things to her though, so risking damage to his nose he edged his face into the gap between door and frame.

“But Trelli, it’s the oculator. It’s working better than ever, it’s at full capacity. When you see how wonderful it is at full extension, it’ll take your breath away!”

And promptly wishes he hadn’t phrased it quite that way. But there was a simply a ‘humph!’ and a terse instruction to wait while she put on shoes and coat to at least look she was about some sort of duties.

 

One candle was doing its best at illumination, yet Trelli’s attention was taken by the pale glow from the mirror’d glass set in the metallic box now upon on Migran’s desk. From the glass came a steady soft pale light, itself a background to a variety of shapes in a myriad of colours; each moving from one edge of the glass to the other, and thence to move off to another edge; the vibration she had previously felt now an audible steady hum.

“I’ve been investigating for some time,” she did not appreciate his whispering over her shoulder, far too close, but the sight of a construction once outside of her imagining now working stifled all manner of objections. At this silence Migran’s own confidence returned, fully certain he could win her support and assistance back “There have been patches of light and flitters of shapes, the occasion sound. But tonight I followed the code on that document you saw, I was really careful and delicate with the tuning,”

“Tuning?” she echoed, having assumed that was something to do with music, only to have Migran take hold of her arm and gently direct her to the desk.

“No, it’s all to do with the way the oculator is worked. There are protocols and standards. See that line of twinkling gems below the screen. Well those are gems which are attuned to the elemental tides, currents and strings which make up The Nanonsphere; it’s the place where all the energies and abilities come from to make this possible,” he eased her down on the chair; transfixed somewhere between fascination and horror Trelli gave way to the urge to know something more about this threat “You see those metal discs, three on each side, well those I can use to focus on a particular subject; right now you are seeing everything the oculator is party to,” he reached over her and turned the top right disc right ways, in response circular shapes began to fade, until only squares and oblongs occupied a green background, he turned the next disc leftwards, the shapes stretched until they resembled lines moving horizontally jagged and sudden interruptions breaking up their flatness “And now, listen carefully”, he worked the bottom disc and from a distance Trelli could hear small voices made harsh with crackling and hissing, scaring her with the feeling that people had been shrunken and trapped in there. Sensing her tense, Migran placed one hand on her shoulder “It’s alright. It’s alright. The oculator is letting us listen to other people using their own communication devices,”

Trelli eased at the touch, then remembered it was A Touch and shrugged his hand off.

“But it’s all strange,” she dared not raise her voice above the whispering “It’s like standing on the edge of the sea cliffs in the wild winds. You feel you could jump and fly, you nearly might, but you know it’ll be wrong,”

Migran was not really ready for a lyrical argument and Trelli truth be known was not sure where that sudden eloquence had come from. Far off she could hear waves playing out their song on the rocks, somewhere a gull was voicing out it feelings making her feel dawn could not be all that far away.

“I don’t know Master Migran,”

Why did that return of deference chill him?

“I just don’t know. I suppose you’ve done something some might think is clever, but it scares me. It’s not a good time to talk about this anymore. These things are best talked about in daylight. I gotta go now. It’ll be time to get up soon,” and swivelling from his chair, moving so fast he could only feel a brush of her arm, she was out of the door.

He looked to the still open door, to the chair and back to the screen, hands clenching, teeth set tight.

And no thoughts about how he was going to sell this to his parents and brother.

Instead after closing the door, he returned to his desk.

“I will fly Trelli. You’ll see. I will,”

 

Dekyria had been pondering on whether he should let Bleymore sleep for a little longer for the man’s body’s sake, or whether he should indulge in a mug of coffee and an interlude of his own repose and even whether Medician Beritt should be given some consideration, when Pillor dutied to survey all possible manner of permutation cried out.

“Everyone to your oculators! Those white light are on their way in!!”

All thoughts of coffee were swept away.

“Wake up our guest Ledgewick! Gerimor find the Medician!!”

“Suppose she’s got an emergency Captain!” Gerimor had been on the unsympathetic end of Beritt’s treatment for Particular Boils and subsequent lecture on Cautionary Behaviour after a visit to a travelling brothel. He was a little scared of her.

“Then they can die for a good cause! I want her here and now!!”

The Patchwork Warriors # 13

The Patchwork Warriors# 11

The Patchwork Warriors # 12

 

 

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13 thoughts on “The Patchwork Warriors#15

  1. “But Trelli, it’s the oculator. It’s working better than ever, it’s at full capacity. When you see how wonderful it is at full extension, it’ll take your breath away!”

    Why am I blushing? LOL!!!!
    Trelli and Migran!

    What a pair 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I’ve often had to administer doxycycline or amoxicillin for those, “Particular boils”. lol Hmmmmmm nano: a prefix denoting a factor of 10 to the negative 9th power (a very small quantity). Or Mork from Ork…nano nano lol

    Liked by 1 person

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