They were going to leave the day after King’s week ended, flying by transport to Printer and leaving from there by ship. Petra offered hers, but when it came down to it there were seventy people going with them and Petra only had the one bed. The Royal Guard respected Kolb's people and vice-versa, but they weren't letting the heir and first Princess go to a strange land without them. Tor didn't blame them. It was, on the surface, a stupid idea. Really they should have left Rolph all together, but he wanted to go, and Tor kind of wanted to have another guy to talk to.
It turned out not to be a problem at all. There were lots of men coming with them.
The problem was that Petra's boat just didn't have facilities for a group that large. Even two ships that size wouldn't be enough. The space was there, but it was configured all wrong. Tor looked at the problem, meditated on the state of his own field and decided to risk making something new. It was mainly something he'd already done in different parts. Just a larger boat with two in-ship levels with thirty furnished rooms on each of them. Some people would have to share and the rooms weren't big and they were plain, but had nice beds and a restroom in each. The showers and tubs would have to be shared too, but fully twenty people could use them at one time. If that wasn't enough for Royal Guards and the combat instructors, then Tor had sorely misjudged them.
He worked slowly, in small bits and pieces, holding things in place as he ate and checked his field for stress. There wasn't much really, as long as he went slow. It took the remaining time and he had to skip the official meals, but just had it put around that he was busy… entertaining. The Warden people gave it a wink and a nod, and no one did more than offer to help.
With his… entertaining.
On the day they were to leave Tor got up and ready, Alissa doing the same, insisting on showering with him, though he didn't let her touch him. That didn't stop her from playfully trying. He didn't scold her, since they were to be married soon and you didn't treat your wife, no matter how young, like a child. Besides, she didn't look like one, and it was easy to forget. He didn't let himself though. Rules were there for a reason.
Even the arbitrary ones.
They needed four transports for all their things and no one had even asked what they were going to do to actually get there, which seemed a big oversight to Tor. Technically they could have used the transports, but it would be a miserable trip, hours in cramped conditions with no restroom at all. Or water. But it would be fast too.
That was something to avoid. Slow was better for once. They had some food for the voyage and he bought more in Printer once they got there, because it was going to be better to have too much than to run out half way. Especially since they had all those giants with them, and Tor wasn't going to speed up the trip because their tummy's were grumbling.
They over-nighted on the beach in front of Holly's house, Tor picking up a few pies from the baker in town to share, ten of them. The man reminded him they were already paid for as per their agreement, even as Tor delivered a few extra amulets to him with a smile. Then, before dark, he checked with Clark and Ethel in their store. Business had been going well and they'd started a few more concerns, using his share of the money. They'd need more devices soon, but could hold for a month, they told him, not seeming sure of that. He gave them about half of what he had left, hoping that he'd be able to go back to his copy work soon, otherwise several businesses were going to be in for a tough time because of his lazy ways. He seemed fine after the work he'd done on the boat for the trip, but if he was missing something Tor didn't want to end up falling into bloody chunks because he made one too many batches of lights.
The next day he took Petra out to set up the ship, hovering about three hundred feet up, he activated the amulet in his hand, the vast ship appearing directly beneath him. The pretty girl hovering next to him gasped. She wore a simple rust colored silk outfit and light, cream colored shoes, kicking her feet in excitement as he lowered the boat. Once it was in the water she landed on the deck instantly and spun a little, looking around, her face gleeful.
“Tor! I… How big is this thing?” The awe in her voice was gratifying.
That it floated and seemed stable was also gratifying, it was always so hard to be sure about things like that. Tor pointed to the front and then back.
“Five hundred feet long, one hundred and twenty wide. Five levels, but three are above the main deck, those buildings over there? In all there are sixty-five rooms, sixty below decks, five up here. The Captain’s is the biggest, of course. The rest up here are for Rolph, Karina, Ursala and Ambassador Mutta. The kitchen should feed us all, and is probably little overbuilt space wise, at the back of the ship, inside on the first floor. I mean deck. The tubs and showers a level down from that.” Tor looked over the side of the rail and saw that the water was pumping in and out already, so that was working right. Good. If worse came to worse a big boat with water at sea was better than a big boat without. Dying of thirst on the ocean would be ridiculous, but he'd heard of it happening in stories.
Tor gestured for her to take the glowing focus stone and hang it on the post right in front of the pilot house.
“There you go Captain. You have the ship.” Tor bowed to her, a low thing that would have fit the King himself.
She looked at him mouth half open and then smiled hugely, white teeth gleaming. Then she started doing a little dance like the combat giants all did when acting playfully gleeful. It was cute on her, but freaky when some of the others did it.
“Thank you.” Was all she said, her eyes gleamed brightly and her look seemed proud and happy all at once.
Tor didn't actually get why she was thanking him for dumping a whole bunch of work and responsibility on her without asking, but he managed a satisfied look anyway, as if he hadn't been expecting to have to beg her to do it. She was the only one he was certain could find the continent of Afrak in a boat though.
They had to load using air transport, but the rear deck was large enough they could set down all the vehicles at once. They were a little close for comfort maybe, but the doors opened on the sides for off loading, so it worked. It was tempting to take them, just in case of problems, but they had a half dozen people with magic vehicles, and while they didn't get as big as a full transport, there were more than enough for everyone to get a ride if need be.
It would work. It took three hours to load everything, the kitchen being nearly as far from the transports as physically possible, but with seventy odd people, it didn't take that long. They didn't make Mutta load anything, being a dignitary, but Rolph was set to work by Petra who smirked as she did it. At sea, by long standing tradition, she outranked him. Actually as Captain she outranked them all, hence the biggest room, even though she didn't really need it.
The ship was jet black on the bottom, but the top portions had been done in a light blue color, nearly white, The railing that ran around the deck was a light wood rail, on true white stone. Tor had textured the deck so that it wouldn't be slippery when it got wet. He was sure some things had been forgotten, but it would go where they wanted and they could sleep, eat, bath and drink fresh water all the time. There were lights in each room and the hallway. It wasn't really pretty, but was just plain, not shabby. Still, he kind of held his breath when everyone started getting their rooms. He went first, just taking the room on the first floor, near the stairs, so that he could be found easily if anyone needed help. Kolb grabbed the one across from him and Wensa the room next to that. Probably for the same reasons. After that he lost track.
No one complained about the rooms, which had large beds that made themselves, and a few pieces of furniture. They were the same in each room, identical, with red carpet floors and brown soft chairs and sofas, with a table and writing desk that looked like wood. There were large windows too, each about four foot around to let in natural light. It was all shield, so it was just as strong as the wall itself, clear or not. It gave people a view at least.
That was it though. No drapes, no decorative hangings. Just a place to stay. No one whined about it, not to him at least. He really didn't know what people got on a regular boat and hoped he hadn't stinted too much. He'd been running on kind of a tight personal energy budget in a way, so it was about the best he could do safely for now.
Tor went back to the kitchen to start setting things up, and making some bread for dinner. They had fish and giant bugs for the meal, those lobsters they liked so much in Printer. So that and some vegetables, carrots and peas? It was standard stuff, but with a spice cake for dessert, it should do. It was three in the afternoon when they left, so he had six hours to get something ready. The bread first, large flat loaves, so they'd bake quickly and sheet cakes, he made four, but decided to layer them. If he was in Two Bends it would have been enough for all three hundred villagers to have some, but here, with what these giants ate he just hoped two full cakes would be enough. The recipe was so basic that he didn't have to look anything up, which was good, since he didn't have anything with him to do that with. In their hurry, no one had thought to get a set of recipes in for the trip. That was fine for baking, obviously, since he could make a few hundred types of baked goods from memory. The rest of the food would probably be a bit plain if he didn't fight to make it more interesting somehow. At least they had plenty of spices, which always made cooking easier.
The only real concern was the big bugs. He didn't have a real clue there, except that he'd been told to boil them until they turned bright red and that he needed a big pot with a lid so they wouldn't be able to escape. The idea of boiling them alive frightened him, but Holly had assured him that it really was the way it was done. It seemed cruel to him, but what did he know? They weren't exactly something he'd ever made before.
Tor set the food out Warden style and let people get their own when everyone started following their noses in at about nine. He didn't have a clock, but it was ready, so he let them eat, hoping he'd gotten the amount they'd need, at least close. If not he was sure that people would tell him. Loudly. Possibly with hitting being involved.
With a bit of creativity, he even managed a few decent sauces, and melted butter for the sea insects, which he hoped wouldn't just go to waste. He'd only had it once himself and wasn't a big fan personally, but they had a lot of them in a salt water tank near the back of the room, enough for the first week. People took them when getting food, and made impressed and happy noises about it, so it must not be that strange to them. Then again, the royals always did weird things didn't they? Giant bugs… Eeek.
Petra came and took a seat without more than a nod to him, not even smiling. She sat at the table furthest away from the food and waved him over, then Rolph, Karina and Ursala when they walked in together. They had to sit and wait for Ambassador Mutta, who wondered in, looking around, a bit amazed by the space it seemed, as boring as the decor was, just having wooden tables and walls. Polished light colored wood though, so kind of pretty. Petra got her to come over too, and stood as she approached. Rolph did as well, which meant Tor needed to get to his feet he decided, feeling a bit tired already. Karina rose, and then bowed as Mutta approached.
Was this protocol stuff? They all bowed to Mutta, except Petra, who simply stood and led them all over to the food. Well, she was in charge, he guessed, though it all seemed a bit over done for fish and bread. There was plenty left at least, so it didn't look like anyone would be starving that night. It was simple, but Tor had tasted it and decided it was good enough for the first meal.
If they wanted better, he was going to need help. Looking around at all the royals Tor wanted to shake his head about the odds of getting it, but didn't. He'd just have to be clever about it or something like that.
Tor didn't say much at all during the meal, just listening to Mutta's plan, which involved docking at the big port on the south end of the continent and then flying to the desert to work. It was basic and had a lot of holes, but they'd work around it. They also had to go to the main city, not exactly either the capital or a city. She tried to explain, but couldn't exactly manage it. That at least was just the southern port, so they'd be there to start with, making his ambassadorial duties light.
“We live in a garden…” The words were vague, like she couldn't explain it really. She just smiled and waved her hands instead.
When people started to finish, Tor got up and brought the cakes out, which took up half the serving table, but got a murmur of approval. Who didn't like cake? Well, out there in the world, some crazy person sat in a cave eating bugs and reviling cake, Tor guessed, since there was always one, but normal people liked it. And this was a good cake, nearly perfect. The frosting had set nicely and everything. He took a small piece back to the table with him for Mutta. Everyone else could jump up and fend for themselves, he decided. Tor waited for his because if it ran out he could do without.
Then, probably rudely, Tor pointed at things and asked, “what is that?” in Afrak. He repeated the words and built a picture of the objects quickly, holding the field of the word in mind. It wasn't magic, but it made everything easier to remember by far. After about half an hour Mutta ran him through everything again, asking him what it was in Afrak and having him name it while she pointed. He slightly mispronounced a few words, so he made a point of remembering them and trying to fix that. As everything wound down and people started to drift out Tor waved to Kolb and Wensa.
“Um, dishes? So me, you two, Karina and Rolph? If we do the first dishes, no one else can complain about the chore later, right? Well, they can, but anyone claiming to be too important or noble for it will have to eat their words without sauce. It's a good plan, don't you think?” The look he gave them was just level, slightly amused and filled with steel. The basic message was that if, after making the whole meal, Tor didn't get help with that part, he was going to mutiny.
For some reason no one seemed all that thrilled about the idea of being used as scullery help. They did it though, and with good enough humor once the task was started. Actually there was remarkably little playing around and the work went faster than he'd thought it would. The wash water was warm and he had a food dump that put the scraps into the outgoing water for the sea life to eat. Large plates of the cake were escaping back to the rooms he noticed, which was fine, but he wondered if everyone had gotten enough to eat?
Kolb kept washing as he talked, handing plates and silver off to the Prince for drying and stacking.
“It's a fighter thing. Gather provisions when you can, because you don't know what’s going to happen later. If they were hungry now they'd just eat more, you didn't run out of food, so it's probably fine. I'll listen for grumbling, but it should be all right.”
That got a nod from Wensa.
“Indeed. No one here would complain openly about the food, not on the first day, but I'll listen too. So far if anyone has complaints it'll be an individual food preference issue. Lobster and whitefish with rosemary sauce and fresh melted butter, while at sea? Then that lovely cake for desert? Most impressive. Really I figured it would be sea biscuits and limes for us, not having a cooking staff. I wasn't aware of your kitchen skills.” The Royal Guard Captain smiled at him, approvingly, which shocked Tor a little and made him blush. It wasn't like they were the best buddies ever or anything.
After a bit Tor understood she was trying to be nice to him, probably because they weren't the best of friends, and had kind of gotten off to a rocky start, relationship wise, what with her wanting him tortured, and Tor thinking she wanted to kill him. For months.
Karina was busy putting away the dishes, walking quickly from one secured rack to another. The plates were stacked like normal, but between four supports that just touched the sides of the dishware, so they couldn't shift much if the boat rocked. The cupboards were done to look like dark cherry wood with brass handles. The dowels themselves looked and felt like wood, but that was just an illusion of course. When she made sure the last was in place she turned and looked at Tor.
“We should make some rolls for breakfast tonight, and get people to work at each meal.” Her gaze shifted to Wensa and then Kolb, looking a bit more “Royal Princess” suddenly. “If we keep making him do it all, by day three Tor will be serving a big pot of potage for every meal and handing out sternum punches to any whiners. I'll help, but…”
But she didn't know how to cook or bake. Why should she? That was something she'd never had to do at all. She hadn't even warmed her own food. Servants did that, and when there were no servants, you hired some. But here she was just as clueless as anyone. Less really, because she'd helped at the bakery for a week, practically a professional compared to the rest of this crowd. Even when he couldn't go, she went and helped Box along with Davie, who’d apparently dragged a rather battered and beaten looking Jerral along towards the end to scrub the whole place with an old toothbrush. Karina would do to start with.
They didn't finish until one in the morning, but had sweet spice rolls, bread for the next day and all the breakfast prep they could do without fixing the food itself. Tor was about to fall over by the time he got to his room only to be woken up while it was still dark out by an insistent pounding on his door.
“Tor wake up! Emergency!” It was one of Kolb's people, one of the medium sized giant guys, drunk off his rear, and sopping wet. He was also naked and had three other naked people in the hall with him, two guys and a girl. All huge and hard looking. In all ways from there flat abs to… Well…
“'mergency?” Tor felt like his mouth had been wired shut and looked at them sleepily with one eye. What did they need? If they were looking for sex lubricant they really should have waited for morning. They could use cooking oil, but he wasn't getting it for them right now and if they went into his kitchen and messed things up he'd dangle them all over the side by one hand. That meant they'd all swim, because there was no way he could hold them up.
“It's the baths! Flooding! The ships sinking!” The girl, Dara he thought her name was, screamed. It got everyone to wake up and come to the hall quickly enough. Tor was already padding down the hall, glad he at least slept in nice tan silk clothes. At least that night he did. There was water on the floor to be certain. Three foot deep. It wasn't a big deal yet, the door had steps going down in case of spills which would buy them some time.
Sizing up the situation he got it without too much trouble. Being creative people they'd taken a plate from the kitchen, focus stone in a deep red-black, so military issue, that had probably carried cake back to a room, and covered the drain on the floor, noticing that the whole room, about a hundred foot on each side, could be turned into a pool by blocking it. It worked pretty well and they found the room filled a bit faster than they'd realized it would. No big problem, except the plate had gotten stuck to the floor, the water emptying under pressure from the bottom and all that water on top… They couldn't move it at all.
Great. Well, good to know that would work if they wanted to go swimming.
The water moved in fast, it had probably filled the whole space inside half an hour, with the drunken giants running around desperately missing the sigil that would turn it off, once they realized they wanted to stop the flow and couldn't, they'd freaked. That part of room was already under water, meant to be used while sitting down in a tub. Tor sighed.
Stupid drunk giants.
“Alright. First lesson about magical devices? Anyone? No?” Tor didn't know why he bothered, but he was wet past his belly button and a little sleepy still. He looked at the people gathered in the doorway and finally Rolph, his short red brown hair, more red than brown now, raised his hand like in school. Everyone stared at him with wide eyes.
“Yes, Mr, Cordes?” Tor said dryly, tilting his head with a wry and slightly disgruntle, smile.
“A sigil is only an indicator so that people can focus their intent and it's not really needed?”
“Exactly. So, the water?” Tor gestured to him and after a moment Rolph closed his eyes, concentrating and slapped the wall. This caused the water to shut off instantly.
“Yay. Good job. Everybody here got that, right? Because there will be a test later. There always is. Now everyone on early kitchen duty, memorize the faces of these four, since you get to boss them around all morning, get that and go get some rest. Anyone not on that detail, jump in and help me move this plate please? This is going to be a pain without using magic.” Grumble, grumble, Tor thought, working his way to the drain, the water nearly to his upper arm even as he stood upright.
It took an hour and a half, but one of the Royal Guards slid it off to the side somehow, ducking all the way under the water and working the plate back and forth with nearly superhuman effort. It was just enough to start the flow, two hours after that they managed to slide the plate all the way off. Then the room cleared of water in about twenty minutes. Tor remembered who was in the water with him the whole time and sent them all off to bed. It was tempting for him too, but he had to get to work soon or breakfast would be lunch and then people would complain about the poor service and he'd have to sternum punch them all.
Karina had said so. That made it kind of a royal edict, right?
Only they mainly had shields so it wouldn't work.
He made himself clean up and shower before going in. If you touched food, you had to be tidy. It was a psychological thing as much as to prevent disease, at least with him. Tired and clean beat tired and dirty any day, if you got the choice, right? Tor went through the motions well enough, even thought a slightly ill feeling ran through him, starting at his head and working down to the pit of his stomach. Just tired, Tor thought. He'd never gotten sick in his life and really doubted anyone had been poisoning him here. They needed him to make the food.
Plus… he'd made all the food and was the only one handling it. No one could easily poison just him at least.
In the kitchen he found a still sleepy Trice, David, and Karina waiting. Bless them. Pushing into action as fast as they all could go. It felt like it took forever, but the late night prep paid off and they were ready to feed people by eight. Later than he liked, but no one complained about hunger pains yet. As he ate sitting next to Mutta, she rolled off phrases and terms in Afrak, some pretty complex. Tor paid attention as he could, but knew that he wasn't doing what he should be on the task. Sighing he turned to the woman.
“Oh, sorry Doctor Mutta, I'm sleepy and I think I missed that last one. Did you say that “fork” is literally “food stabber” in Afrak? Or am I just not getting the words right?” He waved the implement in question. He said it all as she'd been instructing, except fork, of course.
“That's right. “Food stabber” very good! I didn't think you'd have more than ten words of my language yet, but you sound almost fluent already.” Her voice was excited.
“Really? All I'm doing is trying to pay attention to what you're saying. Hey, do you think you could work with me on this during lunch too? I know it can't be that interesting for you. I must sound like a four year old, but it helps and I may need it. Ambassador and all that.”
Next to him, absently munching at a cinnamon roll Petra cocked her head at him.
“I didn't know you already spoke Afrak.” She said in Noram standard.
“I kind of thought you were just learning last night, to tell the truth.”
Ambassador Mutta laughed and told the new Captain that this was Tor's third lesson, saying it in Noram standard for her. Petra smiled and kept eating. Either she thought it was a joke or cute of him. He hoped for cute, because he kind of wanted to spend some time with her later. Or Bonita. She was on board, but had been spending all her non-meal time with Rolph. Sigh. Well, as long as she was happy and his friend was pleased, that should be enough for him, right? Still, if he saw her he was going to try and break her free for at least a chat. Tor missed her company.
At lunch Mutta, which he learned meant “gray” in Afrak, started to read to him from a book. It wasn't a story, but a complex science codex. He had to stop her every few seconds to ask questions, some about complete concepts that he'd never even heard of before. The text was about medicines based on animal products, things genetically altered to be of use to humans by a portion of the Afrak community. He got that “genetic” meant “life instructions”, but it was also clear the physical bits they were talking about weren't the whole story as to how things worked. Finally he stopped her and asked a question about it, which caused her to draw back a little, her robe, something made from magic itself, suddenly flaring pink. She didn't realize she'd made the change without thinking, but then magic was a new idea to her, wasn't it? Tor kept himself from shaking his head.
“Do some of your… people that do genetics, get better results than others, while some people can't seem to get any at all, even though they're doing the same things physically?” He looked at her hard, having asked in Afrak. It was still a little rough, and he definitely had a Noram accent, but she nodded, clearly able to understand his meaning.
“Yes… We don't know why it is, and select out for that during training, but it happens. Why do you ask?” Her voice was curious rather than annoyed at least.
It was only a guess, Tor told her as he collected his and her plates and bowls to take to the window where Dara, and her hung-over giant friends, were taking in dishes for cleaning. It was just that magic rested a level down from where the Afrak worked and part of the instructions for life were held there, if those didn't change, then the genetics probably wouldn't do what was wanted as often as it seemed to.
The best doctors were probably influencing things magically without knowing it. That was all. Most people did it all the time, the effects were just too small to easily notice. Magic itself wasn't unique really, it had its basis in how the mind worked. Everyone’s mind, and the mind wasn't separate from reality after all.
“Just a guess though. If I could see it done, later, when my own field repairs itself more, I could tell for certain. I think so at least.” It was a pretty small and fine part of reality to be working with, so maybe not. It would be fascinating to try though. Tor kind of wanted to drop into a meditative state and see if he could do it right then, but realized that then he'd have to slam his head into a wall for being stupid and using magic too soon without a very good reason. It would have to wait.
That changed how Mutta treated him for some reason. Drastically.
Instead of casually reading from her book she began to drill him nearly constantly on Afrak and biological science. It got so bad that he woke up one night having dreamed that she was doing it in his sleep, slipping into his room and murmuring next to his head. She hadn't, but he woke with a start anyway, covered in a light bit of sweat.
“What the heck was that?” He murmured out loud. Tor didn't know for certain, but it felt like his deep mind had decided to give him lessons in his sleep too. Grand.
As he drifted back to sleep it occurred to Tor that he'd been speaking in Afrak, thinking in it too.
For all that he had a private room, which was kind of nice in a way, he kept missing all the women in his life somehow. He baked and cooked with them, saw them all at meals even, but when he had a few minutes to spare they'd be gone. Finally after dinner on the fifth night out he saw Ursala just sitting at a table and reading.
“Finally! Someone. And you're not even speaking Afrak! Talk to me, please?” Tor asked a bit desperately. Mutta was a saint to work with him so much, but he needed a distraction for a while and this was about the only time he had for it. He'd heard other people talking about being bored, but he didn't see it. There was so much to do. Cooking, baking and cleaning, learning Afrak and stretching for a few minutes before bed so he wouldn't freeze up totally. He should go and practice with the people on the deck after lunch, but he had to make time for it… Maybe Mutta would continue their lesson up there while he fought? It wouldn't work well, but if he didn't get some kind of exercise soon he'd start going soft.
“Does sex count as exercise?” He asked abruptly, but it got her to smile and set the book in her hand aside.
“That depends on how you do it. Want to try?” She seemed interested in helping with that chore, so he nodded his head seriously.
“As long as you talk to me while we do it. In Noram standard preferably, since you can't speak properly. Backwoods I mean. But you could pray at me in Tellerand right now for all I care.”
They actually went up on the deck and at first he thought she was proposing they have sex against the railing, overlooking the ocean itself. It was a little more public than he'd like, but he had to admit, it would get the heart racing. She was just leading him to her room though. It was bigger than his by two thirds and had a huge bed in it. He hadn't been in it physically, but the layout was familiar, having come from his thoughts originally. No one else seemed to notice, but the whole ship felt like Tor. Even the kitchen and restrooms were built to his standards, not anyone else. He'd made the facilities a bit bigger, knowing giants would be around, but that was all. Ursala hit her clothing amulet to turn it off and told him to pick her up and fuck her while she faced him.
Given their sizes it shouldn't have worked at all, but he found he could do it, especially as she chanted naughty encouragements at him to go faster and not stop. Finally, spent and panting after twenty minutes they fell on the bed together.
“Not bad! I must weigh fifty percent more than you do, but you didn't even slow down. God, you're stronger than you look, you know? Anyway, catch your breath and we'll start the next part.”
Tor had to give her a funny look, since he couldn't speak yet. There was a next part? Well, he'd try. Hopefully it wouldn't kill him or anything.
They slept together in her bed that night, and in the morning he woke already aroused. She chuckled and used her hands on him, since, she assured him, it would be faster that way, at least the way she did it. Her fist blurred at times and pleasure ripped through him, but he was able to get to work on time.
Then, of course, the old schedule resumed with a vengeance, since people were starting to get restless and didn't want to help with cooking duty any more. On the eighth day no one showed up to help with dinner at all. Looking around the empty kitchen he almost just dove in and tried to struggle his way through, but then realized that if he did that, people would keep missing their shifts, just dumping everything on him. They didn't have a cook or baker, or any other crew except the fighters and Royal Guard, and he was trying to make it all work, but really his main job right now should have been getting ready to build rivers and being an Ambassador. Shrugging he decided it was passive aggressive mutiny time then. Really he wondered if most of them would get the idea, but nothing for it but to try, right?
Tor made a large pot of oatmeal, one of the giant pots that he could barely lift when full, toasted someday old bread, and put out honey for it. Then he made half a roast fowl for Mutta with elaborate trimmings and fixings. She was an Ambassador and didn't fall under his ire on this one after all, no one expected her to wash dishes or cut vegetables. They better not at least.
Plus, really, also being an Ambassador, he wanted to remind her how he should be treated once they got to her place. Good food and attentive care. It probably wouldn't happen, he knew, what with him being male, but it was worth a shot.
The way people yelled and grumbled you would have thought he'd kicked them in the collective groins. It was a thought, but since any one of them would probably kick his butt without thinking, a few just by falling on him, Tor decided to save that option for later.
“But…” The big scary Baron sputtered loudly, “I hate pottage!” He cried piteously enough that people made sympathetic noises.
“Oh? Good then. This is oatmeal cereal, not pottage, that would have slivers of sugared meat in it.” He grinned when he said it, but the large Baron didn't seem placated for some reason.
Tor pointed out softly, not raising his voice at all, that no one had shown up to help, so he figured to everyone was bored with eating interesting food and just wanted something plain and wholesome. In other words what they were getting from now on unless he had help at meals. There was a return trip too, he pointed out casually, gesturing at his own bowl of oatmeal with his black focus stone spoon. A few of the wooden chairs scratched on the floor, but no one spoke. From the glares he was getting from nearly everyone it became plain that no girls were magically going to find his bed that night either. He considered announcing to the room that he'd like some company just to see what they said, but realized that might be taken as an invitation to poison him, or stab him in his sleep.
Trice made a big circle in the air with her spoon and dug in, liberal dollops of honey on the top of hers.
“Actually this is really good Tor. Thanks.” She took a big bite and smiled at him.
Everyone else glared, except Mutta who just started coaching him in Afrak again. She was a hard and driven instructor, but he had no doubt he was learning more than just how to speak her tongue. His knowledge of biological sciences had increased a thousand times in the last days, going from something around “things breed and have babies” to understanding that small changes in the information that make something up, when copied thousands, millions, of times and allowed to grow can make complex and lasting changes to a developing creature.
Or field, his mind put in excitedly.
It made sense. What was a living thing but a growing and evolving field of information that organized physical properties? Could that be adapted to his building work? It would be a little slower, but what it took from him, the effect on his field, would be less too, and he could have a lot more novel builds going at once. It was worth a shot. Unfortunately he didn't have any growing plants on board to look at, and doing more than searching how a plants field worked was silly right now. Using another human would take too much time and have effects on him too. Probably.
The next morning he found a half dozen volunteers waiting for him and rewarded everyone by making egg toast and sausages as well as eggs and just to keep things sharply in mind for everyone a small pot of oatmeal. No sweet rolls, but no one dared speak about it to him, if they spoke at all. Heh. Well, it seemed like someone had gotten the idea at least. Probably Kolb and Wensa.
Then, the Royal Guardsmen hadn't complained about the food the night before, had they? No they just ate it, without even making faces.
It took longer to make the southern port than he'd figured it would, ten days instead of seven. When he asked Petra about it she grinned.
“On the way back we can make it a lot faster, a few days probably. I went slow to kill time and get people used to being on board. Plus, how often do I get to play sea Captain on a real ship? I had to pull rank just to get people to leave you alone so you could study with Ambassador Mutta though. The girls kept talking about sneaking you off and having their way with you. Not just the ones you know either. A couple of Royal Guards actually had a plan in place to nab you after dinner a week ago. I'd have been in on it myself, but I actually have to steer this thing between meals. If you help pilot at night we can make it back way faster. I've been going dead while I sleep. Short shift on it, but still…”
He kissed her, and told her that they'd make time for sex if he had to come and do her while she drove back. Petra told him it sounded fun and made him promise.
They laughed, because they both knew they weren't doing anything of note in Afrak. Mutta had flat out told him that people would freak out if anyone suggested that anyone ever had sex outside of marriage. Tor passed the word to the commanders of their separate groups. If they weren't careful half the crew would end up married. Fine if that's what they wanted, but awkward if some guy or gal thought they were just getting a little friendly and exotic sex only to find they were expected to set up house permanently. It would look bad if they lost a big chunk of the crew after all and Tor wasn't going to let them escape the duty if it came up.
It could cause an incident if they did that after all.
It didn't matter, they were there to work and Tor had a plan of sorts. Mainly he was dumping the duty of getting food on Mutta, who seemed half panicked about it, which Tor took as a good sign. A ten person flying team, led by Wensa, being a woman and naturally bossy, was to set up all the rivers while everyone else followed the mapped out lines for the water outlets. The Afraks would get to set up the irrigation and all the plants. It seemed fair to him, in fact it was the deal they'd made. He'd get the water in and out for them and they'd do the rest of the work. Then they'd run by the Capital, or where ever the leaders lived and head home. Simple.
The first snag happened when they tried to dock at the large Afrak southern port. They were willing enough to have them it seemed, based on the happy way people waved at them and called out, but the dock was dwarfed by the ship. Not wanting to unpack everything yet, since it would take several days to off load it all and then do it again in a week or two, they backed the ship off a couple of miles, so it wouldn't be in the way, and set up to fly to shore. It was about five-thirty in the afternoon when they stepped out of the magical carriage, Mutta going first, to run interference, she said quickly in Afrak. After all, the Princess didn't speak the language and the Court Jester was the Ambassador. If she didn't speak up pretty quickly women would start making offers on Tor and the Prince for marriage.
It was a joke, he thought, since she smiled when she said it, happily enough, but the very first woman to approach them looked at him and Rolph and offered ten genetically modified silk goats for the tall one and twenty for the pretty one, which, blushing, he assumed was him. Mutta cringed.
“Are you trying to start a problem? The tall one is the Prince of Noram, who will lead it one day, and the pretty one is the Ambassador to our land! Plus, look at them, they must be worth fifty times that even if they weren't. The correctly sized one there? He learned our tongue in just over a week, and is grasping genetics faster than I've ever seen any do. No, I must spurn your offer. Perhaps if you collect a group of friends you could afford to buy them together and share? A very large group of wealthy friends.”
The she turned to everyone else and bowed.
“She welcomes you and hopes your stay in our fair land is a peaceful and educational one, and expresses her admiration for you all.”
Tor tried to fight a smile from his face, which made Mutta wave at him, addressing the dock woman again.
“I told you he'd already learned the language…”
The woman, the head of the dock proper, seemed more intrigued with him after that rather than less. She kept making a point of standing close to him and touching his arm and shoulder, pretending it was casual the whole time. She wasn't bad looking, about forty he guessed and wearing tough looking clothes that might have been some kind of canvas, but didn't seem exactly like it. The colors were muted brown and green, so probably work clothes. As they talked, the woman kept moving just a little closer to him, until their shoulders touched. She did have a bright and friendly smile on her slightly round face. It wasn't fat, he could see a hint of lean muscle in it even, just the shape of it.
Mutta got them permission to keep the ship where it was, and to visit the town that evening to look around, but cautioned that the men and women on the ship, while nice people, were all giants, save a few, and that they wouldn't understand an offer to buy marriage.
Tor shrugged.
“Well, they're royals and nobles mainly, really an offer like that wouldn't be misunderstood either, but the crew will be needed to go back with us, so if any women are truly interested, they would need to be willing to relocate, men too, but from what you said the fellows won't be making a lot of offers? And if Mutta here could act as the first proxy for their mothers? Then she can get with Princess Karina, since she can act in that capacity officially, if needed.” It made sense to him anyway, the Queen could do it legally, just like the King could act as a person’s father at need. Anyone’s, regardless of their age. So here, for their people, those duties would fall to Rolph and Karina.
Mutta smiled and winked at him, something he didn't even know she knew how to do. She asked where the other flying craft could land, and found a field to the east of the… expanse. That it wasn't a city, which she'd tried to explain earlier, was absolutely correct. He had to look hard to see how the low hills were actually houses that had plants growing all over them. There was a dense spread of trees and bushes, making it look more like a sparse forest rather than a place humans lived.
It was beautiful. Maybe the most lovely thing Tor had ever seen.
The food, he saw, was right there, grown next to the houses, and in between them. Large distances had been established between each place, at least an eighth of a mile, unless there were more hidden places around that his uneducated eyes just couldn't find. Once he got used to the idea Tor could see that it was a good plan over all. Everything was there. No need for far off farms, so no transport, except for moving people to one place or another to chat. It wasted a lot less than a similar size town in Noram by far. It had the land space of a city, but the population must have been about ten thousand or less. He asked the dock boss, forgetting for a moment that men were second or third class citizens here.
That didn't stop her from answering, she even seemed please that he'd thought to ask. Tor wondered if she was flirting with him, being humoring or something, to keep his attention? That or the dock workers were just cool that way. Or maybe she just didn't think men had to be stupid and useless?
“About seven thousand. We can feed twice that without harm, but the population board has kept us stable for the last few hundred years. We don't get a lot of visitors here, not that come ashore. The Tellerand men come to trade, that and tell us of their god, but they always seem insulted when women try to buy them, instead of taking it as a compliment. Men are rare here, so we have to jump if we don't want to miss out. How is it done there, in Noram?” She seemed curious so Tor answered without thinking too hard about it. He had to be diplomatic, but she'd asked.
“Noram? For a marriage? Normally either your parents arrange it for you, or, if you love someone, a man goes and begs the girl’s parents to let them marry. Sometimes there are gifts that go to the parents, and a dowry isn't that different from buying outright, except it doesn't go to the girl’s mother, but stays with the girl herself, so that she and her husband can use the wealth to start their life together. Where I come from specifically, you can sometimes buy a wife or husband from their mother for livestock. So for me your ways aren't that different, though I already have a betrothed. She's on the ship out there.”
The boat didn't have a name he realized. Then, it was the only giant black and light blue ship on the ocean that he knew of, so it should be all right for now, a description would suffice. The woman nodded and as they moved back to the carriage approached Mutta again. They talked for several minutes before coming back.
“Hah, Court Jester! She offered to send your mother forty silk goats if you have a brother with your look and tongue skills!”
He kept his face blank while the others laughed. Then he nodded.
“If you see her again, please let her know I have several younger, single brothers. All of them very clever, will you? I think my little brother Timon may actually be better at languages even, he's ten though, so a little young. My mom might just take her up on her offer. Forty regular goats would be an unheard of price for a boy. I don't know what silk goats are, but I imagine they're rather more precious?”
Wensa was the one flying them back, and she was clearly fighting a laugh of her own all the way. When he climbed out and his head moved closer to hers she smirked.
“She could tell you had good tongue skills just from talking to you? She must be an expert in the field.” She chuckled then, so he stuck his tongue out at her. Lethal killer or not, Tor wasn't taking jibes from her without a response. He didn't have a witty come back right now, but when he thought of one he'd… regret not thinking of it earlier and not say anything.
Obviously.
Coming back six months later with it wouldn't even make sense. Instead he stared at her for a second.
“Want to try for yourself?” He said instead batting his eyes at her. Really as isolated as he'd felt on the trip, even with everyone else around, it suddenly seemed intriguing, even if she probably would kill him for suggesting it.
Instead she laughed.
“Alright. Can't turn down an offer like that can I? Not at my age. Now? How about when we're safely back home? I don't want to distract you from your work, now do I?” Her voice had gone… sweet. Polite and intrigued. Right, the rules at play. She couldn't say no outright without being rude, could she?
Tor chuckled. He should have known better than to try and fluster someone like her. If he pushed her on the topic she'd just… do it, most likely. Wouldn't even blink. Instead he bowed. At least that baffled her, it being well outside protocol for the situation. Score one for him. Half a one at least. It wasn't much of a victory actually… Sigh, he thought making sure he didn't laugh, oh sigh.
Tor was kind of tempted to just stay in his room and sleep. It was a rare opportunity, seeing Afrak, but he didn't really want to walk around translating for people all night. They could have at least tried to learn some Afrak on their own, but no one else had care to. So now for all his effort he got to tell women, exotic with their dark skin, though the ones he'd seen had all had short curly black hair that looked interesting too, but wasn't like a birds bright feathers at all, that they couldn't really buy the pale giants.
If they'd listen.
The dock woman hadn't been bad, older than him by about twenty years, he guessed, maybe more if they lived longer than in Noram. She didn't seem to treat him any particular way really, just normal, if a little more flirtatious than a common woman from Noram would have been. Like he was a regular person and everything. It wasn't until they were going around to see how the city was laid out that he really understood the difference. The women on the dock actually dealt with foreign men regularly and knew not to act too superior. They were special that way. The rest of them didn't do that. Not at all.
For all that she half ignored the King sometimes, it seemed that their Afrak Ambassador was special like that too. Practically open minded and accepting compared to the average woman in the street here. They barely saw the men at all it seemed.
Mutta explained who they were and why they were there, and that they had the heir and second in line for the throne of Noram there and the Ambassador. Everyone seemed to think that Wensa was the Ambassador, being the oldest female and that Ursala and Karina were the heirs. They questioned them incessantly about how the rivers worked and how soon things would be coming together. Tor had to laugh after a while and elbowed Rolph in the ribs.
“Watch this.” Tor made his clothing look like one of Mutta's more colorful robes, a silk dress looking thing with pink, green and teal blue stripes running at an angle across it. Then he arranged the top to bunch a little giving him just the slightest hint of breast in the right place. Barely noticeable, about what Mutta had going on. Most of the guys in their crew didn't even notice, the Noram women didn't either. Suddenly he was the Ambassador though, young or not. It made the night easier, the only price being his dignity. Not that he had any of that left. But when in a strange land it was on him to try and meet their customs and ways, not force his on them.
With a bit of patience he turned the topic to how they produced food, and got one older woman with brilliant blue hair and orange eyes with catlike slits to explain how the whole thing worked.
Now she was exotic looking. Tor half wondered if he could drag her back to Noram to visit the King and Queen. That would go over well in court he knew. Tor wondered if she could see in the dark like a cat too. That would be useful for the military, if he could figure out how to make a change like that. No more making individual lights for them at least. They could just pass around one “eye change device” once.
If he had the land, he told Rolph, he could bring in water and do this in the wastelands north of the Capital. It would take work, but the idea was sound. They had the water there already now even, if they started in the area by Wildlands Station and the flight school. Mutta excitedly translated what he'd said and Tor found himself drug off into one of the dwellings. The other seventy odd people were left outside alone and without a translator. Hopefully Karina wouldn't sell them all before he got back. Maybe a few as a good will gesture? No, he decided. Not until after the work was done. The Prince nodded to him.
“Well, you know, the land is yours if you want it. As it is you should be doing something with your house. I'd love to see it be something there other than dirt and rocks myself.” The large red-haired man looked considering for a second.
“Yeah, you should do it. Just let me know what you need and when you’re ready.”
The women asked him questions about the wastelands, how dry it was, if he could get water there, then they explained how to start with grass to hold the soil, shrubs to break the wind and trees to pump water from the damp earth below, up near the surface so that other plants could use it. Focusing he relaxed and started memorizing what they said, the words becoming clearer to him as he listened, making more and more sense. It was what they planned for their own desert. It would be a garden soon.
Tor nodded his eyes half closed.
He needed seeds and workers. That and the land. It would work though. He could do it. Would do it. The idea just seemed right. Something inside him cried to him to try and fix the damage. After a moment he noticed everyone staring at him, so he shrugged.
“Sorry, I do that, lost in thought, creating a plan. Anyway, we'll go and set that water flowing for you tomorrow. Is that all right? We can take some of your people or get them from other places if you want, so they can learn how to work all the equipment. Knowing how to do it yourselves is always better than having someone else do it for you. I think that's true at least. We'll do the initial work for you though, since it will be easier to do from the air and we have flying gear. I didn't think to bring enough for your people… I can get you some if anyone wants? Just send word to me, later though, it will be a few months.” Everyone smiled and nodded affably. Really, they seemed happy enough to not have to fly, though Mutta spoke of its virtues with vigor.
He'd have to get her some flying gear and instruction then.
The door moved, a subtle shifting noted only because the air currents changed, and at first he didn't really see anyone, even though the girl that stood there didn't move at all. It was an eerie stillness that caught the attention, almost like she wasn't real or something. A statue instead of a person. She was about fourteen from her look, as pale as he was, or nearly so, like him with a tan was probably closer. Her hair was straight and black and she was gorgeous, really just stunning. After looking at her for a second he realized who she looked like.
No, who she was, which was ridiculous.
Insane.
Plus a little freaky that he'd just been thinking about how good looking she was. Creepy. Icky really, so he blocked that part out of his mind. The power of meditation to the rescue. After focusing for ten seconds he was simply alert and ready.
Why would his mother have regressed her age that much, and be standing inside a hill in Afrak? More, she wore Afrak clothing and her hair was long, where his mother had cut hers like the Queen had to support the troops in the war effort. Finally she smiled and rushed across the room, hugging him tightly. It was familial, not amorous, so Tor hugged her back patting her shoulder a little. Taller than he was, so was his mother, but not this much. This woman was at least five-nine. Like Burks. Well.
She spoke in Afrak, her eyes happy and a smile on her lips.
“It is you Green? Is all well? Bring you news of our daughter and her family?”
Tor shook his head and then spoke, not certain a head shake meant the same thing here. Some things like that were just different, and Mutta hadn't gotten to them all yet, focusing on spoken language instead.
“No. I'm not Green. Notice how short I am? My name is Torrance Baker. I'm the one with the magic rivers? If I have this right, and if I don't then the world is more baffling than I can handle, the one you call “Green” is my grandfather. Burks Lairdgren?” Tor made a few mental leaps but it made sense so he continued.
“And since you look identical to my own mother and just asked if I had news of your daughter, I'd hazard to guess you're my grandmother? One I've always been told was dead? Interesting. I can see why though. Bad enough I look like Burks, at least he lives far away from me most of the time.”
Ambassador Mutta nodded and smiled.
“Yes, this is the Gray!”
Of course she was. Tor nodded to the eerily still woman and smiled.
That only made sense, didn't it?