For three more weeks they'd sailed westwards towards the capital of Occsa. Three weeks of constant vigilance throughout the day and tense nights spent waiting for another ship to show up on the horizon, for another rebel force that they'd need to fight their way through, but luckily it seemed that the scouting reports Lawrence had received were accurate; the remaining forces of Commodore Greyfax, and indeed the Commodore himself, had gathered together along the only real airstream from the Occsan capital through to Gaul. For certain, the Sunbird could go around, but that would add months onto their journey, not to mention the fact that the Commodore certainly would not simply sit in place and allow them to just waltz past them. They'd destroyed one of the man's ships, and even if he didn't know that the crown prince was aboard he'd still wish them all dead nonetheless.

All of that aside, it still meant that the rest of their journey west was, for the most part, unimpeded. Oh, they hit the occasional rough patch where they were becalmed or tensely stood by the guns as a merchant ship sailed by, but no ills came to any of them on that stretch of the journey.

Well, unless you counted the hangovers Archer had endured in the week spent at Three-Streams, but Cooke was on hand to assist him with them. True to the man's word, whilst he could not simply magic the hangover away he was nonetheless able to greatly diminish the pounding headaches and roiling stomachs of those mornings, the worst of the symptoms bleeding away with nothing more than a few select pills. They were excellent for his energy levels as well; with a single one of the white tablets Archer felt himself completely rejuvenated for the day ahead, the twenty or thirty minutes waiting for it to kick in notwithstanding.

Anyhow, he'd luckily been able to get back to his duties without much delay. Sure, he spent more than one night sleepless and paranoid whenever he stopped to think about exactly what he was involved in, but he did his best to avoid thinking about it too much. He just couldn't afford to spend nights in a constant state of wakefulness because of a hidden heir, a regal conspiracy, and all the daggers that must still be waiting in the dark to find a royal back to bury themselves in. If he allowed himself to be consumed by that paranoia and fear, that sense that just by befriending the prince he was now a target in the games of power that these noble people played, then he knew he'd never be able to escape from the depths of that self-made anxiety. He didn't want to live like that for the rest of his days, not when he knew that he'd be able to live a privileged life and that all of these feelings would pass as soon as the chaos of the last few months finally stopped piling itself upon him and all of this became the new normal of his life. Without wishing to be overly dramatic, he knew that these feelings were little more than the after-effects of his life being radically altered in front of his eyes and would fade into nothingness when he could eventually start taking strides in his new life as a royal confidante, and so he endeavoured not to worry and instead allowed his mind to focus on the day to day chores and maintenance of the ship that he currently called his home.

When they did eventually go to ground Archer was half expecting it to be a repeat of Three-Streams, what with the crew able to leave for a little while for some recreation and time off. Hell, he figured the only real difference would be the language that the locals spoke and the fact that they were now groundside, not docked in a skyport.

But no. Unbeknownst to most of the crew Lawrence had picked up more than a few valuables from Three-Streams and had seen fit to sell them for a mark-up here. The profits of such an endeavour, combined with the ship's treasury and the wages of Lawrence himself, seemed just enough to cover the costs of what the captain had proposed, and so for the next few weeks the entire crew resembled more a hive of bees than a gathering of men and women. As for the wages Lawrence had spent to ensure the safety of his crew? Well, if half of the money that Archer had been given by the baronet wound up in his friend's quarters then no-one needed to know how it had got there. Archer would have bet the remainder of the sterling on Cooke pulling a similar trick, at the very least reimbursing the captain for some of the wages he had lost out on. It wouldn't do for him to be destitute and penniless by the time they reached blighty after all, not when he'd been so very kind to them both, and to all of the Sunbird's officers and crew. Stern, yes, but never unfair.

Work had stretched on for days, but remarkably there seemed to be very little actual sophisticated work for Archer to undertake. Instead he busied himself with more mundane areas that needed maintenance on the internals of the ship; air circulation systems in the mess, cookers in the kitchens, lighting fixtures in hallways and the barracks. There was always something that needed fixing on a ship of more than a hundred souls, doubly so when one considered that they really were rushing to move the Sunbird from points A to B as quickly as possible and so Archer had been busy in the flight focusing on the more important aspects of the ship, such as the engines or air pumps. There was little he wasn't willing to try his hand at fixing aboard the vessel now, but that meant that now that there was a lull in the action he resembled a handyman more than a true Assistant Engineer. Ah well, work was work he supposed, and he'd be damned before anyone could call him a freeloader. God, just imagining the grilling he'd get from his mother if he didn't help his friends and do what he was paid to do properly was enough to get him working with more efficiency than he'd known was possible.

"Mr Haywood, sir! You've been summoned outside, if you'd make yourself free to walk to the square outside the ship?"

Archer looked up at the young midshipman and nodded.

"Aye, will do. The captain or the prince?"

"The captain, sir. He never said why, though. He seems a little put out, if you don't mind me saying sir."

Archer nodded, only a little concerned, standing and wiping his hands on a rag as he tried to make himself a little presentable. He supposed he couldn't have looked too bad, he was in a set of good working clothes he'd picked up in Three-Streams after all, but sometimes old habits died hard, and he'd had the mantra of cleanliness drilled into him so many times at this point that he hardly even noticed when he went through the motions of ensuring his attire wasn't too badly dirtied by the work of the day, his hair not too matted by sweat so as to make him appear unwashed and unkempt.

Walking outside he blinked in the sunlight, his ears immediately picking up on the low background chatter of the workmen as they painted the wooden hull of the sunbird with several coats of jet-black paint. Similarly he knew, even before he looked up, that there would be nought left of the balloon but the metal girders that acted as its skeleton, each one of them glistening as they caught the light of the sun and only further increasing his desire to shield his eyes as they slowly got used to the far brighter exterior world.

"Ah, Assistant Engineer. May I speak with you a moment?"

Archer hadn't even really registered that his feet had carried him where he needed to go, instead he was lost in a daze until his friend and captain spoke. He responded with a polite nod, and wordlessly indicated for the man to continue. Lawrence nodded back respectfully, and made to continue speaking.

"Assistant Engineer, you've been a great help aboard the Sunbird so far, both in your roles as an apprentice and a friend. I wish to ask you one or two questions about some information that I've recently, extremely recently, come into possession of."

Archer smiled at the man.

"Well, go ahead. I'll answer you as best as I can, or as much as I'm able."

Lawrence chuckled in response to that, and Archer quickly realised he'd been a little too early in speaking.

"My thanks for your due diligence Archer, but not quite yet. There are also one or two other things I wish for you to speak of before I ask those questions of you. You don't need to answer if there's ever something that you wish to keep personal, of course, but I'd just like to know one or two things if that's okay with you."

Archer's smile fell a little, but didn't drop completely. He hadn't expected the man's tone to be as serious as it was, though there was every chance with Lawrence that he was just stuck in 'monotone' mode and hadn't realised the tone he was speaking in.

"Ask away, Captain."

Lawrence nodded once, but did not look at him. Instead he looked off into the distance, off to the north.

"What do you make of our prince, Archer?"

The question was eerily reminiscent of the same question Lawrence had asked him when he'd first boarded the ship, but he shrugged that comparison away. Lawrence's question about the former captain had been the result of Archer being naïve, full of concern and apprehension. This one seemed genuine and thoughtful, as though he were trying his best to be objective and unclouded by attachment. Archer thought on the question for a few moments, trying to best line up his thoughts.

"He's diligent and kind, slow to anger and quick to forgive. He's well loved by his people even after seven years of absence and faces little threat from the nobility that I know of, not that I'm overly versed in noble politicking. He... he left home to defend his people, and found a freedom he didn't want to give up whilst he was with you. He's a good person."

Lawrence nodded slowly, his words thick with emotion.

"Yes. Yes he is, isn't he. Tell me, what will you do when we reach Albion? When we reach the palace? Will you try and stay by his side? Or will you continue your service aboard the Sunbird?"

Archer was silent once more. He'd thought about that point before now, not much, but a little. He truthfully didn't know what he'd do once they reached the palace. He wasn't even sure why Talon had chosen now of all times to return.

"I don't know, Lawrence. I don't know."

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Lawrence turned to look at him, a melancholic sadness in his eyes and dripping from his words.

"Neither do I, Archer. And it scares me."

"It scares you?"

Lawrence nodded.

"My whole life has been spent in the clouds, on the Sunbird. My life, my soul, is tied to this ship. But in these last seven years Talon has come to mean more to me than life itself. If he were to leave my side and I needed to choose between him and the ship, my heart and my mind, I don't know what I would do. I don't like lacking a plan when moving forwards, Archer. Alarm bells in my head tell me it's bad for my chances of survival, that I'd not survive courtly life given that I wasn't raised on etiquette as you both were, but I'd need to roll the dice for that question. We still have some months for me to work out an answer, but I know it isn't enough time. I've had these same thoughts for nearly five years now, ever since I realised how much Talon meant to me, and in those five years I've come no closer to reaching an answer."

Archer said nothing, allowing the man to say what needed to be said. Lawrence was clearly struggling with this issue, a deep and though old somehow still raw conundrum that he couldn't even bring himself to speak to his closest friend about. Archer didn't know what to say to comfort the man, and there was little enough in the ways of advice he could give, and so he instead elected to change the subject and press on with the conversation.

"You say you came into possession of some information recently. Would you mind now divulging it to me?"

Lawrence nodded, visibly withdrawing himself from whatever mental quiet place he had gone to.

"Indeed, for it ties neatly in to why I ask you these questions. Mr Haywood, I have recently come into knowledge that our enemy, Commodore Greyfax, somehow knows about the prince."

Archer felt ice settle in the pit of his stomach. Fuck. That was not good. His words contained a subdued panic as he spoke, fear and a little anger mingling into a most unpleasant emotional cocktail.

"How? How does he know?"

Lawrence shrugged, the motion almost making him look defeated as he sighed.

"I do not know. I thought I'd been so careful. I kept it hidden for years, and yet within the month of Cooke revealing to the crew who he really is the rebels now know. Perhaps someone divulged the information while drunk in Three-Streams. Perhaps the commodore had spies somewhere along our route, or caught wind of something when we passed through the Greenbush Mortuary. Maybe he has spies on board the ship or in the streets of Occsa. I don't know how he knows, only that he knows. Because of this, I need you to make me a promise."

Archer nodded seriously. This was not the time for questions, that much he understood.

"If something should happen to me, or to the Sunbird, you take Talon and you get the hell out of there, understand? No heroics, no martyring yourself, you take Talon and as much sterling as you can and leave."

He swallowed hard at Lawrence's words, understanding now exactly why the man was so serious. He was the failsafe to see Talon home. Lawrence continued, and though his tone was deliberately subdued he was almost completely unable to stop the emotion in his voice from breaking through.

"Whatever you need to do to get him home, you do it. Theft both petty and major, assault, resisting arrest, murder, arson, I don't care. You find a way to get him home, Mr Haywood. If I thought I were capable of seeing him safely home by land then I'd do it, but I don't know solid earth like you do. Even standing here makes me feel uncomfortable, like everything is stood still. If our plan fails, then you need to get him out and get him home. No matter the cost."

Archer nodded once more at the man but said nothing. Lawrence seemed as extreme both in emotion and intent as Archer had ever heard, and he was none too happy to go along with this plan, but if it meant that the heir to the throne would find his way back home to safety, to his parents, to Albion, then Archer would do it. At the very least he'd have some stories to tell when he went back to his own home, to the baronetcy and his parents, and of course his little sibling who no doubt would have been born by the time he made it home. He hoped mother would be alright throughout her pregnancy.

Sensing that he had gotten himself a little off track, Lawrence let out a polite cough. Archer looked up at him, and nodded sincerely.

"Alright. I don't like it, and there's plenty to go wrong, but I understand. I'll do it if needs be. I don't want to, and I certainly can't promise success, but if all other avenues close to us then I'll do everything I can to see him home."

Lawrence smiled a little and nodded at him.

"Thank you, Archer. That is a great weight off of my mind. I fully expect our plan to succeed and for Greyfax to taste the earth when we meet, but now that I know that he knows the prince is aboard the Sunbird, I need to consider what else he might know. If he learns of our plans then they can prepare for them, and as such the proposed plans will likely fail. I apologise for placing this burden upon you, but I trust you like I trust very few others since the deaths of the twins, God rest them both. Thank you."

Archer turned to face Lawrence's back as the man walked off to leave, speaking again and making the man stop in his tracks.

"If I'm to do this, I want to know something from you. It's personal, so you don't need to tell me if you do not want me to know, but I would like to know."

Lawrence turned and gave him a small smile.

"Very well then. What is it you would wish me to tell you?"

Archer took a small breath in and let it slowly exhale.

"The twins. You said you'd tell me of them one day. We might not have many more days, so I'll ask now."

Lawrence's small smile turned sad, but he nodded nonetheless.

"Ah, of course. I did promise as much, didn't I? The twins. Kit and Wilfred, the two Bradleys. Heh, where to start? It sounds cliché, but they were genuinely the best of us all and the worst of us all. Loving friends and violent foes, quick to laugh but just as quick to the fight. They may not have confided in any aside from each other and myself, but I don't believe there was a single person who disliked them in the slightest."

"And they were your assistants?"

Lawrence nodded again. There was a strange weight to the motion, as if he were far older than he truly was.

"They were. Kleptomaniacs and thieves they may have been all too frequently, but they were damn good at their jobs. I picked them up from Auld-Kern a few years before the pass. They could have hardly been teenagers then, all sinew and bone. They were street rats, and the ship took them in as it has many others over the years. They learned fast and learned well, though in some things more than others."

There was a slight curl to the man's lip as he continued, though if it was the tell of a fond smile or a sense of distaste Archer had no idea.

"They were good people, truly, but all the mannerisms and mental walls formed from a lifetime of stealing scraps to survive doesn't leave a man overnight, just ask Talwynn. The twins ate from my table and were treated by my side, and I think they imprinted on me, if that makes any sense. Despite the fact that they were just as much a part of the crew as anyone else they seemed to believe that, seeing as I had gotten them on the Sunbird, I could have it all ripped away from them whenever I desired."

The man shook his head a little.

"It was not true and never was, of course. Even if it had been, I would never have done it. It didn't matter though, not really. Over time the notion began to leave them, and they opened up to me a little more. They were like little brothers to me, the closest thing I'd had to family for a very long time. They weren't perfect of course, but who is? If the occasional customs officer asked to speak to the captain about dockside items going missing while we were in port then no-one aboard really cared, and they usually got off without so much as a verbal scolding. After a while even I began to overlook their thievery. If they'd been stealing anything truly important I'd have stopped them, but seeing as it was usually just harmless knick-knacks and trinkets I decided to let them be."

Archer smiled and moved to sit on the edge of a statue's pedestal, and patted the area next to him whilst looking at Lawrence. The man smiled back at him and moved to take a seat.

"Thank you, Archer. Where was I?"

"They had a penchant for 'appropriating' souvenirs on their travels, you said."

Laurence chuckled.

"That they did indeed. Harmless boys really, until they had their hands turned towards information brokering. Our former captain, not Crowle but his father, Myron Brooke, recognised their talents and what they might be used for. They were very good at navigating alleyways and negotiating passage into the seedier districts of the portside towns we visited, but they never did anything bad themselves. If the old captain wanted information, it was the two of them that were sent out to gather it. I wanted to go with them, I was so worried about them both, but they were right; I'd only be an encumbrance in such an environment. Besides, they never got caught a single time, so far as I was aware anyway."

The man stopped for a moment, his breath hitching as a fist came up to cover his mouth. Archer gave him a moment to gather himself, knowing it would only be polite to let him work through this at his own pace.

"When they came down with fever, I mother-henned them all day and all night. Cooke did what they could, but... they'd grown in strength so much since I'd first met them, what with them having three meals a day and medicine and even something as simple as a bed to sleep in each night, but they weren't strong enough. When they went back to the Lord... it was tough on all of us, but I do not believe I am selfish when I say it was the toughest on me. To lose both of them in the same night, less than a few minutes apart... God, at that point I don't think they even realised I was sat by their bedside. I hope they did. I don't want them to think they were alone."

Archer smiled sadly at Lawrence's words. The man's fear at losing Talon now made far more sense, even more than the fear of losing a loved one did. Talon was about the only family he had left, and Archer couldn't even begin to fathom what losing the last family he had would feel like. He gently patted the man's shoulder and looked out into the distance, basking in the sunlight.

"They'd be proud of you for what you've done, Lawrence. They'll still watch over you wherever you end up, on the earth or in the skies. Would they have wanted to see you so riven with indecision and anxieties?"

The captain shook his head, smiling.

"No. Wilfred would have boxed me around the head whilst Kit would tell me to stop being such a bloody fool and to get on with it. I guess in this instance their advice would have been quite useful, wouldn't it?"

Archer sighed as he spoke.

"Just because they aren't here anymore it doesn't mean you can't heed that same advice. I'd personally word it a little less crass, but at the end of the day whatever works will work. I trust you, Lawrence, and at the end of the day I'll follow wherever you go. Even if we end up leaving Talon in the palace and taking back to the skies, we can still communicate regularly and make visits. After all, I can't see our prince denying either of us access to the palace for a rain check, can you?"

Lawrence chuckled again. There was a little more mirth in it this time.

"No, I suppose not. Indeed, when you word it like that it makes a little more sense to me. Perhaps either option I choose will leave the other door open to me still. I do not yet know, but not knowing doesn't seem so bad anymore. Thank you, Archer. For everything."

"Hey, don't sweat it. Besides, you've done more than enough for me, Lawrence. One more fight, then we get Cooke home."

Lawrence nodded, and mimed out the motion of toasting a glass, which Archer returned.

"Indeed. One more battle, then a mad dash across Gaul and the Terwall Straits. I can work out my next steps once I'm there."

The man smiled again and turned to him, seemingly satisfied with the conclusion he had come to.

"Thank you once more, Archer. That will be all. You may return to your duties, or otherwise take an hours break. Thank you."

Archer gave him an almost mock-salute as he turned to walk back to the ship.

"Sure thing boss, I'll take you up on that hours break."

He'd been working hard after all. Maybe Michael would be up for a drink, if he wasn't busy training. The Owens and Talwynn really were driving the men hard. Ah well, he'd just have to wait and see, he supposed.