Beanpole listed what he needed, the Comte issued his orders, and that chateau exploded with activity like a beehive struck with a stick. Within half an hour, a cart carrying the blacksmith, a lantern, three pavilion tents, four small crates, and two huge, long chains arrived next to the downed Tripod, alongside a host of knights and squires assembling sixteen horses into two teams of eight.

The Comte and Comtesse, along with Eloise and Fritz, stood at a safe distance, watching. Stefan was taking a much-needed bath, but we'd told him to hurry.

Each chain ended in a large twenty-pound metal hook. The blacksmith used them primarily to maintain, and occasionally repair, the chateau's main gate and portcullis. Henry scaled the Tripod's dome, and I handed the hooks and attached chains to him one at a time. He wedged each into the gap at the control room hatch, hooking one onto the door and one onto the frame. The blacksmith attached the other end of each chain to a team of horses.

Henry jumped down and we stood to one side. Whips cracked and the horses strained. The hatch door and frame were pulled in different directions. There was a long creaking noise, then the door popped off with a tremendous crack.

No time to celebrate. Within seconds, Henry and I were placing each hook in a new place directed by Beanpole, one on the far side of the dome, the other on the far leg near the dome. A group of squires laid a large, thick pavilion tent on the ground beside the dome, placing it at Beanpole's direction.

Henry and I jumped off, and again the horses pulled. The Tripod slowly rolled over. Because of the way the two nearest legs lay partially one on top of the other, the dome actually lifted a bit when we rolled it, which was fortunate because having the hatch off the ground achieved a better result.

The rolling was purposefully slow, as we needed to get it right. Henry and I joined the others. Beanpole directed the squires to move the canvas just a bit further toward them, then told them to get out of the way.

Beanpole strode to the Comtesse and said, "My Lady, we're rotating the Tripod so the corpses and other decayed matter inside will fall out. It will be extremely disgusting. You might wish to turn away."

The Comtesse blanched and nodded her thanks. However, she did not turn away.

I will not describe what fell out of the Tripod onto the canvas. Suffice to say that when two knights and three squires ran off to be sick, no one blamed them. I, myself, really couldn't look. Neither could Eloise.

The horses would need to keep the Tripod in this position for a while, but with sixteen of them sharing the load, they weren't under too much strain. They had been well trained and their handlers were experts, so there was no fear of them losing position.

After about ten minutes, when it became clear that not much more would come out on its own, Beanpole instructed the tent canvas to be hauled away and everything on it burnt. The squires tackled this task eagerly. The sooner the world was rid of that horrible mess, the better.

More squires rushed forward to lay a second tent canvas where the first had been.

I ran around the Tripod to signal to the group of servants waiting some ways off. These were the chateau's cleaning staff, and thus were mostly girls and young women. We had kept them apart because we didn't want them seeing what would come out of the Tripod, although I personally thought that, being cleaning staff, they probably saw worse than anyone else on a daily basis.

They trooped down to the Tripod carrying buckets, mops, brooms, and rags. Another cart arrived carrying two basins of water. Henry and I went down the line of servants, giving each a large cloth and helping them to tie it on as a mask. "This will help prevent you from getting sick," I told them. "I know it seems odd, but it's true. You're not in any danger, but once you're inside, don't touch your face. You'll be all right as long as you bathe immediately afterward."

As we did this, the horses backed up a bit, letting the Tripod roll back enough so the hatch could be entered. It was still about three feet off the ground, so a squire set one of the crates in front of it.

The blacksmith lit the lantern as Beanpole tied a cloth around his own face and gingerly climbed inside the Tripod. A second later, he poked his head out and told the blacksmith, "The internal light works, so we don't need the lantern." He disappeared back inside while the blacksmith blew out the lantern.

I knew Beanpole would turn the radio volume down completely because any sound it made would scare the servants. I also knew he would turn the tentacle sleeves inside out.

The servants patiently lined up in front of the hatch, but with a great amount of dread. The Tripods had represented forbidden power their entire lives. To enter one was once unthinkable, and it's hard to overcome such ingrained beliefs.

Beanpole stuck his head out and motioned them inside. At a reassuring nod from their Lady, one by one, they climbed onto the crate with their equipment and stepped through the hatch. Everything they cleaned out of the Tripod would go onto the second tent canvas, and it, too, would be burnt.

A few minutes later, Beanpole stepped out, hopped off the crate, and removed his mask. He made his way to us.

"I made sure they won't touch the radio or the autopilot," he said. "And I asked them to clean the sleeves. It will take them a couple of hours, which gives us barely enough time, because I'd like to leave before sundown. I need to bathe, and the clothes I'm wearing need to be laundered as soon as possible."

"Can the horses hold the Tripod in that position for two hours?" the Comtesse asked, concerned for her servants.

"Easily," the Comte said. "They are fine and disciplined animals."

"How is the battery?" Eloise asked.

"It has power," Beanpole said.

"Good," she said. "I don't want to get stuck in a dead Tripod halfway back to Freetown."

"What?" the Comte asked. "You're staying here."

Eloise turned to him with wide eyes. "I am a member of the resistance, and my place is with my crew."

"You are my daughter, and I will not have you go into danger."

"If I were your son, you would be proud to send me into danger!"

"What does that have to do with it?"

"Everything."

"You are a girl, not a warrior."

"You are not the one they imprisoned in darkness! That was me!"

The Comte just stared at her.

"Ahem," the Comtesse said, thankfully.

Eloise gave a tiny shake of her head. "It does not matter, anyway."

I immediately knew something was wrong. Eloise would never say it does not matter about something so dear to her. What was she up to?

She continued. "The key thing is, we have a couple of hours, which gives us time to do something important."

 

The Comtesse sent a message to the priest requesting his services. Beanpole bathed quickly. The rest of us packed the trunk, and Eloise sent two servants to take it to the field.

There was a large stone church in town, but Eloise wanted to use the chateau's chapel. It was much smaller and more intimate, and she said it was a place of good memories. As the others gathered there, I went in search of Stefan, who had cleaned up nicely. He was finishing a meal he had no doubt desperately needed.

I said, "Sir, even though you don't remember me, I definitely remember you, and I owe you everything for saving me."

"It was my pleasure, lad."

"It would mean a lot to me if you would attend my wedding."

"Ha! If I am available that day. I'm always on the move, so your invitation will have to be fast indeed to catch up with me."

"You misunderstand. The invite is now."

"Oh." He wiped his face with a napkin, took one final pull of ale, and stood. "Then let's get moving, lad."

Stefan and I reached the chapel to find Eloise, her parents, Fritz, Henry, and Beanpole standing outside the entrance.

A simple wreath of tiny white flowers circled Eloise's dark hair, and she wore her gown. The one she wore the day she became Queen of the Tournament. Blue with white lace. It had been cleaned and pressed, so she clearly had been planning this.

I looked at her in amazement, and she took my hands. "The last time you saw me in this gown in this chateau, I broke your heart. Today, I will erase that memory."

Tears stung my eyes. Eloise and I smiled at each other for a long moment. The rose-colored light of the setting sun on her face was the loveliest sight I had ever seen.

"It looks better on her than you," Fritz said, and Beanpole, Eloise, and I burst with laughter. It took us a full minute to stop.

The others looked baffled, so Fritz said, "We'll tell you what that means later."

Then, remembering, I said to everyone, "Listen, in all the excitement earlier, I never got a chance to tell you that Stefan, here, is the man who sent me to the White Mountains. He posed as a vagrant named Ozymandias to rescue whomever he could, and saved me when he came to Wherton." I looked at Eloise. "I would very much like him to be with us today."

She was enthusiastic. "Of course!" To Stefan she said, "You are most welcome!"

The priest arrived, and we greeted him.

"Here," the Comtesse said, handing a tall, thin candle to Eloise and another to me. She kept hold of a third candle, as well as a candelabra with three holders. "We have no time for any other preparations, but we can at least do this."

"Oh, Mama," Eloise said. "I know you wanted a big wedding, with great pageantry and a feast, and this is the exact opposite."

The Comtesse grew a little misty-eyed but gave a wonderful smile. "Needs must. I know you and Guillaume want to wed now, in case..."

She couldn't finish. Eloise put a hand on her arm and smiled. "Everything has worked out, so far," she whispered. "I think things will continue to do so."

We stepped into the chapel. It was a simple affair, with pews, an altar, an alcove holding a lit candle, and a few windows. The lowering sun sent rays of red and gold through two of them, lighting the far stonework.

Eloise had no maid of honor. I had no best man, for how could I choose a favorite among Henry, Beanpole, and Fritz? Looking at them, I suddenly realized how deeply blessed I was with friendship.

Eloise used the candle in the alcove to light her own, and motioned for me to do the same. The Comtesse set the candelabra on the altar and placed the third candle in its center holder, then stepped back.

The priest and I stood at the altar. Arm in arm, the Comte escorted his daughter to join us.

"Who gives this woman away?" the priest asked.

"I do," the Comte said. He withdrew his arm and stepped back.

As Eloise stood before me, smiling at me, her face warm with the glow of the setting sun, she was lovelier than words could ever say. My heart was so full, my eyes welled with tears.

The priest asked his questions. Looking into each other's eyes, Eloise and I gave our vows.

Then, together, we lit the middle candle with our own. Two people joining their light to create a single flame. We set our candles into the candelabra on either side.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest said.

We kissed.

It felt surreal to me, but Beanpole told me later that I was grinning like an idiot, and that he'd never seen me so happy.

 

We thanked the priest. I suddenly worried that I might owe him money, but he asked for none. He wished us well and took his leave.

Everyone headed to the front hall. Our two hours were almost up, and the sun was about to touch the horizon.

Out the window, we saw a vast crowd gathered in front of the chateau and in the field, eager to see all that was going on. The crowd even extended back inside the gate, just outside the front doors.

Beanpole tensed at the sight. "Do your knights have orders not to let sight-seers inside the Tripod?" he asked.

"They do," the Comte said, and Beanpole relaxed.

"Would you like to come to Freetown?" I asked Stefan.

"Love to. Can you truly operate those infernal vehicles?"

"We got here in one piece," I said. "I fully expect to return the same way."

"Then let's do it."

"I would like to come with you, also," the Comte said.

"Really?" I asked.

He nodded. "I wish to meet this Julius. I wish to see this infernal city at the end of the Earth which imprisoned my daughter."

"I wish to meet Great-Aunt Marie, and the other pageant women who are being freed," the Comtesse said.

Although surprised, the rest of us shared a series of I don't see why not looks.

"That would be no problem," Beanpole said. "We should bring a chair for the Comtesse, as there are no seats on a Tripod."

"If the trip is as short as you say it is, I will not need one," the Comtesse said.

"Very well," Beanpole said. "But let those of us familiar with Tripods, and Henry, enter first to confirm everything is all right."

"And I am going, too," Eloise said.

"Eloise," the Comte said. "As unhappy as it will make you, I forbid it."

"You don't forbid mama."

"I know your mama will not throw herself into danger. I know that you absolutely will."

"You no longer have a say. When I wed, you gave me away. Remember?"

The Comte paused, his mind catching up with her machinations.

My mind caught up, too. It does not matter, anyway. Ha! So that's what she meant! She knew that when the moment came, her father would no longer have power!

She really was very clever.

The Comte turned to me. "Well? Do you allow this? Do you allow your wife to put herself in peril?"

"Allow?" I smiled and shook my head. "I'll leave enslavement and trophy display to our oppressors." I looked at him meaningfully. "My Lord, Eloise shines. Strike me dead if I ever do anything to diminish her light."

The Comtesse smiled. Eloise positively glowed.

The Comte stared at me for a long moment, then approached and held out his hand. "Eloise chose well," he said. "Very well, indeed."

I grasped it. "Thank you."

"Father," Eloise said. Her eyes shone, and she gestured to the rest of us. "These are my friends. My comrades. And I will never let them down."

Eloise held out her hand, palm down, and looked at her dearest friends. "Put your hand on mine."

I placed my hand on hers. Henry, Beanpole, and Fritz stepped forward and did the same. We stood in a circle, our hands stacked.

Her fierce gaze swept across our faces. "We are Crew de la Tour Rouge!" she declared, and our hearts swelled with pride. I felt the strength and warmth of all our hands clasped together.

"Now," she said, and looked at each one of us. "Let's go save the world."

The front doors opened and the five of us strode out abreast, the rays of the setting sun lighting our faces. With my wedding moments behind me and a path to victory ahead, I felt light-headed, like we were moving in slow motion, and the crowd was moving in slow motion as they parted and stared. We strode across the portico, our faces set with the knowledge that we would conquer the task ahead and make it our own. The moment was grand, and seemed to last forever. The day was ours, and we knew it.

The crowd continued to part and stare as we made our way down the steps, out the gate, along the drive, and across the field. I felt as one with my friends: Beanpole, Fritz, Henry, and Eloise. We were full of life, and love, and promise.

And in that moment, we were invincible.

We approached the Tripod. The last of the servants were running off to get cleaned up, and the squires were taking away the canvas and the crate which had been sitting on it. We thanked the knights and the squires for their service, and they wished us good fortune.

I checked, and Eloise's parents and Stefan were not far behind.

"The Comte and Comtesse are coming with us," Beanpole told one of the knights. "As soon as everyone's inside, very gently let the Tripod roll back into position, then back everyone away to a safe distance. We'll take it from there."

"It shall be done," he said.

We placed another crate in front of the hatch. Beanpole climbed in, followed by Henry, who was chomping at the bit to see inside. I held Eloise's hand as she hopped onto the crate, then followed. Behind me, Fritz handed up the final tent, our trunk, and the remaining crates, all of which I hauled inside.

The cleaning staff had done a thorough job. A film of hardened slime still covered the radio and autopilot controls, as they had been under orders not to touch those. While everything else didn't exactly sparkle, it was a lot better than I expected.

It felt odd to walk on the front of the Tripod and to see the controls at my feet. The console's lights and displays looked normal. The portholes were intact.

Henry looked around in awe, then said, "Oh, you've gotta let me drive this!"

Beanpole smiled. "Not today. But there are other toys you can play with." Then he leaned out the hatch and said, "Everything looks good. Please come aboard."

Fritz and I took out our utility knives and began cutting the tent into long strips.

The Comte helped his wife ascend the crate and step through the hatch, and he followed. Stefan nimbly hopped up.

Beanpole pulled the final crate inside while they all stared in wonder.

Beanpole said, "My Lord, My Lady, please watch your step. We're about to roll the Tripod back to its original position. Please walk with the roll so your feet stay under you. These controls operate the Tripod, so please do not walk on them." He leaned out the hatch and waved at the knight he'd spoken to earlier.

We heard a whistle, and the horses slowly backed up.

The Tripod rolled, and we walked along the curvature to match the roll. The trunk and the crates slid along. A few seconds later, the Tripod settled where it had fallen. The hatch pointed at the sky, the portholes showed nothing but packed dirt, and the horses were no doubt much relieved.

Beanpole continued explaining while Eloise and I began stuffing the canvas into the pedals. "When we right the Tripod, we will have to walk backward very carefully, because the wall behind you is actually the floor, and that's where we'd rather be standing. Please don't go near the hatch; it would be a long and fatal drop if you fell out."

He turned around. "Are we ready?"

"We're ready," I said.

"Eloise, Will, and Henry, you're operating the tentacles," Beanpole said. "Henry, you take the middle one. They'll show you what to do. If they correct you, don't be proud."

"Yes, sir!" Henry said. He picked up the middle sleeve with stars in his eyes.

Beanpole continued. "Will and Eloise, angle your tentacles away from center, enough to keep us from falling over. Fritz, because I have poor coordination, I'd rather you operate the middle foot to push us up. I'll operate the other two."

Fritz nodded.

"Do we have holes in the canvas for our feet?" Beanpole asked.

Fritz checked. "We do."

"All right," Beanpole said, then let out a slow breath. "Let's not mess this up, or we'll be dead and, worse, embarrassed."

Eloise instructed Henry. "Hold the sleeve like this." Her right hand held the tip of the sleeve low, her left held the next few feet high, basically holding it like a spear, but she was the one stretching it taut. "Push down, and keep pushing no matter what. But you have to keep it tight, always pulling your hands apart, even while you're pushing down. And we have to start as high as we can, so we have room to move into as we lower our hands."

"I understand," Henry said.

"All right," Eloise said. She knelt and flicked four switches. "Tentacle chamber open, all three tentacles deployed."

I stole a glance at her parents. They were staring at their daughter wide-eyed. I looked away to hide my smile.

Beanpole said, "Tentacles...push us up."

"And God bless Crew 4 for showing us how it's done," Eloise whispered.

Henry was a fast learner. But then, he'd absorbed so much from our conversation this morning. He understood the principle, and the fact that it was counterintuitive to tell your hands to pull something taut while simultaneously pushing that thing down.

We pushed and felt resistance, but nothing happened.

"We're not moving," I said.

"Keep going," Beanpole said. "They're probably just pushing through the ground, but you should hit bedrock in a moment."

We kept going, felt a bit more resistance, and the portholes moved away from the packed dirt.

We slowly rose, further and further. The trunk and the crates slid back and the hit the wall. Or hit the floor, whichever way you wanted to look at it.

"Please start moving backward," Beanpole told the others. They did, the Comte keeping a steady hand on his wife's arm.

We pushed until we couldn't go any further. We were up maybe 45 degrees.

Fritz very carefully moved the middle leg's knee toward the dome, keeping it as tight as possible, then swung the toe upward and lowered the leg. The bottom of the foot touched soil.

"Ready?" he asked.

Beanpole nodded. "Ready. Everyone, be ready to walk back onto the floor."

Fritz lowered the foot, pushing the Tripod up the remainder of the way. The rest of us quickstepped onto the rear wall as it became the floor. I was pleased to see that everyone, especially the Comtesse, succeeded at this maneuver. The trunk and the crates fell over.

Beanpole got the right foot beneath us, but fumbled getting his foot out of the canvas padding. Fritz quickly swung to the left foot and took care of it. It, too, found solid ground. Had he been a moment later, it would have been too late, and the Tripod would have fallen again.

But it was upright.

"Thank you," Beanpole whispered.

Fritz smiled. "I was ready for it."

Beanpole chuckled.

I glanced at my in-laws and Stefan. I didn't think they understood how close we'd just come to disaster, and I didn't feel like telling them.

"Retracting tentacles," Eloise said, flicking more switches. "Closing tentacle chamber."

Fritz and I quickly arranged the trunk and the crates in front of the console so we could stand on them to see out the portholes.

"Are you all right so far?" Beanpole asked Stefan, the Comte, and the Comtesse.

They nodded, and Stefan said, "It's been quite a trip already and we haven't even moved."

"True enough," Beanpole said, clearly still a little shaken from our close call. "All right, we're just minutes from running out of daylight and we've never walked a Tripod in the dark. But we still need to stop if we're about to step on something or someone we shouldn't. Henry, you're in charge of the spotlight. No one else has trained on it, so you're just as good as anyone. Everyone else, keep an extra, extra alert watch."

I showed Henry how to turn the spotlight on and swivel it.

"How I hated these spotlights," he murmured. "Pure hell on Earth."

"Those were a rough three nights," I agreed.

"The worst," Beanpole said. "But we're in charge of it now."

"Will running the light the entire way drain the battery?" Eloise asked.

"That's a good point," Beanpole said. "I'll keep an eye on it."

Fritz peered through a porthole. "All clear."

"What about rabbits?" Eloise asked.

"They need to get out of the way," Beanpole said. "We are not stopping for bunnies." He pulled a rag out of his pocket and covered his hand with it, then set the autopilot. He found the city on the map, assigned it as our destination, and away we went.

The ones who had never been in a Tripod before marveled every step of the way. As before, we had to hit the stop switch a few times, and announce to those on the ground that we weren't the enemy. The spotlight blinded one poor farmer, and Beanpole said, "Sorry! Sorry, we're still getting the hang of this."

As we neared Freetown, I asked, "How will they know we're not the enemy?"

Beanpole smiled. "Leave that to me."

When Freetown, and the alien city behind it, appeared on the horizon, Beanpole activated the external speaker, put his mouth near the microphone...and started singing "La Madelon".

 

Pour le repos, le plaisir du militaire,
Il est la-bas a deux pas de la foret.
Une maison aux murs tout couverts de lierre,
Aux Tourlourous c'est le nom du cabaret.
La servante est jeune et jolie,
Legere comme un papillon.

 

I looked at Stefan and said, "I'll bet you didn't predict this would be how your day turned out, did you?"

With a perfect deadpan, he said, "No, Will Parker, I did not."

Eloise, while continuing to keep watch, enthusiastically joined in at the microphone.

 

Comme son vin son oeil petille,
Nous l'appelons la Madelon.
Nous en revons la nuit, nous y pensons le jour,
Ce n'est que Madelon mais pour nous c'est l'amour.

 

I had always hated that song, myself, so I just smiled and let them get on with it.

Everyone in Freetown stood and gaped as we arrived. Since the hatch was buckled, we couldn't dock, so we switched to manual walking and parked as near the scaffold as we could manage. A group of kind souls on the ground pushed it next to the hatch.

Beanpole exited first and happily waved to everyone, and I realized he was truly having the time of his life. We helped the Comtesse through the hatch, and we all descended.

Julius was there to meet us when we reached the ground. He waited until we were all present, looking us over with a bemused eye.

"Monsieur Deliet," he finally said. "I presume you have good reason for this sudden and dramatic departure from my orders?"

"I do. But first, may I introduce the Comte and Comtesse of the Chateau de la Tour Rouge. My Lord, My Lady, Julius Anderson, leader of the resistance."

"Pleased to meet you," the Comte said, shaking his hand.

"Likewise, My Lord, My Lady," Julius said. "This...well, I have to say, this is quite a surprise."