“But, ma’am,” he answered, rubbing his stinging cheek, “we were only—”
“Silence! These people are my blood kin,” she lied. “Obey them as you would me. Understand? Or do I need new sec men?”
“Of course, my lady,” a guard said, hastily lowering his blaster. “Our apologies.”
Ryan watched the other sec men. The troops were unhappy with the idea and would bear watching. The son of a baron, he knew what to do next in this situation, but did she?
“My lady,” he spoke urgently, “a word, please.”
“Later,” Krysty said. “You there, name!”
Shifting the blaster to his other hand, the man saluted. “Sergeant Armstein, Baron.”
“Take your squad and shut the ville down. No more parties. In one candle of time, I want the streets cleared and everybody sent home. Use the gaudy house as your base to coordinate everything. There’s a lot to do tomorrow, and I don’t want the entire population too exhausted to work.”
They were being placed in charge of the gaudy house? Armstein tried to hide his pleasure at the news, while the other sec men openly grinned and nudged each other.
“It will be done, Baron,” the sergeant stated. “Anything else?”
“Get moving,” Krysty said brusquely. “We’re going to do an inventory of the armory. And remember, you have only one candle. Do not fail me, Sergeant.”
The familiar words sent a chill down the man’s spine, and he gushed loyalty to the woman as he and the squad started off at a brisk run.
“Go straight to the gaudy house, kick everybody else out, then grab a quick one,” Mildred said, easing off the bolt on the Uzi. The spring of the tough little blaster had been repaired many times, and there was no sense putting a strain on the metal for no reason. They were safe enough now.
“Which will keep them busy until tomorrow,” Krysty said. “If we’re going to be here for a while, got to find some to win their loyalty.”
“You have it already,” Ryan said. “It’s only us they want to chill.”
“Was going to use sec men to make black powder,” J.B. stated, sliding the shotgun over a shoulder. “But mebbe I’ll use the slaves instead. Less chance of any trouble.”
“From pirates?” Dean asked.
The Armorer grinned. “Under a death sentence anyway. But if they can escape with the formula, be rich enough to buy a ville.”
“Or a new ship,” Ryan finished. “Yeah, smart. The slaves won’t try anything until they know what to do. Then they’ll try to escape. Makes sense.”
“Trader always used to say that the only person you can really trust is an enemy with a hand in your mag.”
“Got that right.”
As the companions finally turned and walked away, the circling seagulls eagerly descended in a flock upon the jungle gym and began to continue their interrupted meal.
In the golden illumination of the lanterns, the armory could be seen as a stout brick building, with rusty nails sticking out of the mortar between the bricks like porcupine quills. The door was formed of wooden planks held together with iron bands, and two guards stood outside, holding bolt-action rifles, not flintlocks. Ryan spotted another man on the roof who was trying to stay out of sight. That guard carried a sawed-off shotgun and a brace of revolvers.
The guards snapped to attention as Krysty came forward. One was a lanky man with a goatee, the other short and seemingly made of solid muscle. Both sported a lot of scars, and had the neutral expressions of coldhearts. Exactly the sort any smart baron would use to protect the blasters. Men like these couldn’t be bullied or bribed. They were just waiting for trouble to arrive so they could use their fancy blasters. “Door,” she said bluntly.
“Yes, Baron Wroth,” the bearded guard said, fumbling at his belt and rushing to unlock the door. Shouldering his blaster, he pushed open the door with a lot of grunting. The other didn’t assist, but stepped back to have a clear field of fire. Finally the first guard moved it aside enough for the companions to enter. “Here, Baron,” he said, reaching into a box on the ground and extracting a lantern. He lit it with a glowing piece of bamboo from the flame of his own lantern and gave it to her. “You’ll need this. No windows inside, or lanterns, either.”