Disclaimer: In case anyone has forgotten, I do not own Tin Man.
Author's Note: BLAAAARGH! It has been decided, I am shooting this narrator at the next available opportunity – and how convenient, I do believe the bullets are due to fly just a few chapters from now. Oh, don't worry, it's not one of the dwarves, though he is Gulch Verse 'canon' – have fun finding him. And as a note to Bookworm Gal: I swooped like an owl, toyed with 'im like a cat, and stomped on him with the booted foot of the farm girl I am. Narrators should not mess with me, now on to the next. Here kitty, kitty, kitty…
...
Argus Flynt was a professional. Born into a military family, trained in the art of combat almost from the day he'd taken his first step, by the time he was twenty he was commanding his own unit of the Royal Army, his path to a distinguished career all but assured. When the Sorceress Coup put paid to that idea, he'd been in frontlines of reorganizing the scattered remains of the loyal Crown forces into the first of the resistance. For almost a decade of the ever desperate struggle to rid the O.Z. of the darkness that was the Sorceress' reign, Argus ran dangerous commando raids against the Longcoat forces. With the witch's downfall, Flynt became instrumental as a member of the hastily reformed Royal Army as it scrambled to put a quick end to the worsening civil war and keep the circling enemies of the O.Z. at bay. Ever loyal to Queen and Crown, when the summons went out for volunteers in the reformation of the Royal Guard, Argus didn't hesitate a moment to step forward. He was a slipper-in after all, he was one of the most decorated soldiers in the Realm, he was arguably one of the most experienced veterans to be had, he was dedicated, he was steadfast…
…he was getting to be altogether too good at the daft Otherside game of throwing cards into a hat for no other reason than to see if one could. It was an uninspiring game made for the mind headcasingly bored, he considered, flicking a two of emeralds into the pageboy's (confiscated) hat, which explained why he was so all fired good at it. And when was the last time anyone saw a headcase get bored anyhow?
The guard sighed and flicked three of emeralds in after the two. It hadn't always been thus. In the first few months after the Tin Man had put together the Crown Princess' protection detail they'd all got plenty of action…guarding the rest of the Royal Family while Cain single-handedly ensured that no harm come to the youngest princess. But that had been okay by Argus, he was a professional and as long as there was work to do, he'd be right there doing it – even if it did mean occasionally protecting the Sorceress – former Sorceress – from assassins on both sides of the war. Then, unfortunately, things had begun to calm down, the other units got formed and settled in, leaving the Princess DG's guard to…
Sighing again, Argus sent another card in after the others. What really bugged him, though, was not the lull in action, aggravating as that was, but the fact that there was guarding going on right under his nose, in plain sight, in this very palace, while a Flynt sat on his duff – he scowled as he almost missed with the queen of light – flicking cards at a hat!
The infinitely respected Hero of the Eclipse Wyatt Cain had gone through the lists of every soldier, guard and tin man available in order to put together a detail of the best of the best professional fighters and bodyguards to be had – and they were lucky to be allowed to escort the youngest princess across the palace grounds without having the Tin Man along to supervise. Commander Gulch, meanwhile, had dumped over a barrel of mobats and, for all appearances, picked through the dregs at random and called it a day. He'd hired a baby for Ozma's sake. And a rent-a-guard, not to mention a…a…sure the Gillikin made sense, everyone in the O.Z. knew their worth, but how should an Othersider…and don't even get him started on the subject of Dawkins. That a man who'd been booted after only three months in the Royal Army for (hilarious) conduct unbecoming of an officer should be selected for a princess' protection detail, even if she did used to be a Sorceress…
And yet a good friend of the Flynt's had been punched in the face for daring to have something approaching credentials, poor fellow had almost burst into tears when he found out about the twelve year old getting the job instead. And to add gunshot wound to gravity, when the infant had actually managed to lose his respective princess for a few hours, had anything similar to the Wrath of Cain that had rained down on one of Argus' fellow guards befallen him? No, the Othersider had only muttered a few disrespectful words regarding DG – without the merest hint of a title – as if that were the only explanation required (okay, so he might have a point there) – and set forth with the Tin Man as if princesses touring taverns were the most natural thing in the world.
The man, Flynt concluded, adding yet another card to the growing stack in the hat, was a lunatic, albeit a nice one. Perfectly friendly. There just had to be something wrong with the air on the Otherside, if the youngest princess, or indeed the Consort, were anything to go by. And it just didn't seem right that…
"Um, excuse me," a voice interrupted his thoughts, nearly making Argus miss his latest toss.
The guard swallowed a curse as he looked up at the Othersider who, by some malicious quirk of fate, outranked him – as did the other guards in the room.
"I was hoping to ask one of you a favour," Officer Gulch began sheepishly – sheepishly, a commander should not appear before his subordinates looking sheepish – "due to certain, ah, circumstances," – certain circumstances being that the eldest princess was mad as possession at her Othersider and there wasn't a denizen of the palace that didn't know it – "I'm, er, having a bit of trouble Princess Azkadellia's security" – the trouble being that she'd banned him from her presence, what kind of professional lets himself get banned from his charge's presence? – "and I was hoping to borrow a guard in order to fill in the holes in the current schedule…"
Argus Flynt abruptly set his playing cards down. It was a protection detail, an actual protection detail, Sorcer – former Sorceresses be damned.
"I already cleared it with the Tin Man," the Othersider assured them, while across the room the man technically in charge of the Crown Princess' protection detail attempted to look affronted by this. He gave up after only a moment, the witch with technicalities, everyone knew who really ran the unit; in fact, some had begun to wonder who actually ran the Royal Army as well.
Every guard in the room shifted subtly as they watched their 'superior' realize that as the nominal guard commander he couldn't assign himself to the detached detail. "I'll see who's available," the man remarked dryly, surveying the room, "and send him by in, say, an hour?"
"Great," Commander Gulch replied, relieved, "first shift starts at eleven bells this evening," he said, making his way out the door, "if anyone needs me, I'll be in the kitchen."
What's he doing in the...?
"So," the guard commander remarked, obliterating the professional's thought as the door closed on the Othersider, "any volunteers?"
The members of the Crown Princess' protection detail were, to a man, professionals, they didn't raise their hands…
…they went for their knives.
"Everyone still has Royal Duty to stand," the commander commented, making his way to the window, "no visible wounds allowed. Or fatalities," he added as an afterthought.
Half a dozen blades sunk into the far wall as their respective professionals accepted the challenge placed before them. Pandemonium ensued.
Less than a week later, nursing four bruised ribs, a sprained pinkie, and a wrenched – but Viewer healed – knee, Argus Flynt, resident best of the best of the best, temporary guard in the eldest princess' protection detail, and most profitable bet a certain unnamed individual had ever made, only had one question in life.
What in the name of all the deities was Old Gulchy doing in that tree?