Chapter 4 #3
Pip gestured at the doorway. “I measured. If the barn doors are opened as far as they will go, the doorway is thirty and a half feet wide, just wide enough for the fighter aeroplane’s thirty foot wingspan if we’re careful about wheeling them inside for maintenance.
The scout aeroplanes that are coming tomorrow won’t fit—they have a thirty-five foot wingspan—but that’s all right.
We’ll just have to get used to performing basic maintenance outside.
We can at least park any aeroplanes needing more than basic maintenance on the gravel drive in front while we’re working on them.
And there’s this…” Pip grinned as she pointed upward at a track set into the center of the ceiling, a chain with a hook dangling from it.
“That’s for hauling the hay into the loft.
But it will be handy for any heavier maintenance we need to do. ”
“Glad the barn will work.” Fieran resisted the urge to pull her close, the happy excitement in her voice and on her face enticing.
But she was working, and there were men who weren’t a part of the Half-Breed Squadron present. She needed to remain a commanding officer in their eyes.
The point was further hammered home as one of the men approached, carrying a stack of replacement propellers. “Where would you like these, Captain?”
Pip shared one last look with Fieran before she turned away and pointed toward the wall with the crates. “Stack them over there.”
Leaving her to her work, Fieran ducked out of the stable and strolled up the gravel drive toward the mansion.
Aeroplanes lined up at the edge of the front lawn beneath the shelter of the trees beside the lane toward the mansion, and the ground crew was wheeling one last aeroplane into place. No more aeroplanes circled overhead.
As he neared the front of the mansion, he met Rothilion and Merrik strolling up the drive from where their aeroplanes had been parked.
Rothilion regarded the brick mansion rising before them. “It appears the army has greatly improved our accommodations.”
“Yes, though I haven’t been inside yet to see what the owner left us.” Fieran shrugged and gestured at the building ahead of them as Rothilion and Merrik fell into step on either side of him. “I’ve been told healing stones were left for any of Flight A who need them.”
While man-made brick wasn’t as bad to elves as natural stone, it could cause headaches over a long period of time, such as living in the building.
Rothilion nodded. “That is surprisingly organized of them.”
“I know, right? Remember how chaotic it was when we were sent to Dar Goranth? We had to build our own aeroplanes.” Fieran shook his head with a sigh.
On his other side, Merrik gave a snort.
“That was your army. My army adequately provided aeroplanes and healing stones then as well.” Rothilion tilted his nose slightly skyward, his tone overly supercilious. “However, your army is running this invasion. Hence my surprise.”
Fieran laughed and slapped him on the back. “It seems you elves have been a good influence.”
“Of course.” Rothilion sniffed, but he couldn’t fully hide his smile.
One of the second story windows opened. Stickyfingers stuck his head out and hollered, “Fieran! You’d better hurry if you don’t want all the good rooms to be claimed! Aylia already claimed the family wing for the flygirls.”
Rothilion gave another sniff. “It appears you are still in need of our good influence.”
Farther along the second story, Aylia opened a window and hung halfway out, shouting just as raucously toward Stickyfingers, “Of course I claimed the family wing! It makes the most sense for we ladies to have our own private hall!”
Merrik raised his eyebrows at Rothilion. “Such a good influence.”
Rothilion heaved a sigh.
Fieran struggled to contain his laughter long enough to actually think about the room situation.
As the senior three officers, he, Merrik, and Rothilion were entitled to pick whatever room they wanted. It was probably expected that they take the nicest rooms in the place.
But…Fieran resisted the urge to glance at Merrik.
Unless this mansion had a lift installed, there would only be stairs to the second floor.
While Merrik could walk well now, there were times in the evenings when he used a peg leg, crutches, or even his wheelchair to fully rest his legs.
Stairs would be a hindrance, and he’d probably pick a room on the main floor.
It would make the most sense for all three of the commanding officers to room in the same general area, so they could be located easily.
Besides, it wasn’t like Fieran, Merrik, or Rothilion needed the novelty of sleeping in a luxurious room. They’d grown up wealthy. Might as well leave the ostentatious rooms for those who would appreciate the experience more.
“Take whatever rooms you want on the second or third floors.” Fieran gestured between himself, Merrik, and Rothilion. “We’ll be rooming on the main floor.”
Stickyfingers grinned, nodded, and shut the window, as did Aylia.
“Main floor.” Merrik’s voice was too carefully neutral.
“Yes. There should be the rooms for the upper staff there.” Fieran set out for the mansion once again, and the other two caught up a moment later.
“We’ll be easy to find if headquarters sends someone with a message or orders, and I can take over the butler’s office for all the paperwork the higher-ups keep demanding.
It might even have a telephone for communicating with headquarters. ”
“Quite logical.” Rothilion quickened his pace. “I will ensure the healing stones are distributed to those who need them. Once I can locate the stones.”
“If I were to guess, there’s probably a massive pile of crates and rucksacks dumped in the foyer.” Fieran matched his pace to Merrik’s.
Rothilion nodded as he headed for the main door.
“You did not have to pick our rooms on the main floor on my account.” Merrik crossed his arms and halted, turning to face Fieran with both boots firmly planted on the gravel.
“I didn’t…” Fieran cut off his instinctual protest as he met Merrik’s gaze. “It was one factor. But everything else I said to Rothilion is also true. It makes the most logical sense. Besides, Lije, Stickyfingers, and the others will enjoy having fancy sheets and luxury furnishings far more.”
“Still having fun slumming it like a regular person?” Merrik’s flat look disappeared into a hint of his smile.
“Exactly.” Fieran crossed his arms too as he faced Merrik, his smile dropping.
“As the commanding officer, it’s my job to make sure the members of my unit have what they need to operate at their best. That means I make sure the elves have healing stones, the flygirls have privacy in their own wing, and, yes, that you have a room that is optimal for you.
I’m not coddling you; I’m making sure you can operate at your best.”
Merrik sighed and shook his head. After a moment, his smile returned. “And what are you doing to make sure you operate at your best?”
“Ensuring that I have you, Rothilion, and Pip around to be the voices of sense.” Fieran grinned and set out for the mansion once again. “Speaking of sense, I have a feeling it’s going to take all three of us to bring order to whatever chaos the flyboys have turned the mansion into.”
“Very true.” Merrik matched his grin.