Ursala wasn’t bad in the air, once she’d agreed that trading whatever it was she intended as an exchange, was of equal value to what he’d given her. To distract the Countess he told her about how he’d managed to get himself trapped in a tub earlier with two of the women of industry.
“Ha! Oh Tor. You told them that? I…” She laughed a little as she floated in the air about five hundred feet up. They’d already made a large circle of the area, practiced turns and landed several times for the exercise of it. This hovering was mainly so that she could get used to just being up in the air. He’d found that raw time was the best thing for getting people used to being up high and trusting the gear.
“That’s really sweet… Um, who’s that?” She started to point with her left hand and shot forward and down a little bit before she recovered, nearly half a mile away. Unconcerned, Tor followed. Ramming full speed into the ground would suck, but she pulled up well enough before anything could happen. Ursala even slowed down smoothly enough that the whole thing probably looked like she’d done it on purpose from the ground. Tor grinned at her back.
While they’d been circling a decently large group of people had set down in front of the large gate. They’d probably flown in, Tor realized, because if they’d been in wagons or walking he would have seen them on their last pass, probably all their passes. Out here any movement on the ground kicked up dust, even a group of people walking.
They were all large, and wearing half a dozen different kinds of clothing, mainly types of fighting leathers. The man in front was slowly walking forward towards Godfrey, who’d come out to meet him, backed by about fifty men in black military uniforms that all had excavation units on, holding them like they were weapons.
They wouldn’t make wonderful projectile devices, but then anyone holding a metal object towards you with a field on it could be ready for anything. He still had a “poison detector” that would make any sane person run in fear if they knew about it. Or soil themselves. It was around his neck on a cord if he needed it. Right now though, strangers or not, politeness seemed to be in order. After all, if they were as big as they all looked, and flew in, they’d have to be nobles.
As he approached, wearing the old student browns he’d put on to go and bake earlier, he waved the much more attractively dressed Ursala to set down behind him. He hoped he didn’t have to tell her to keep her shield on right now. She wasn’t stupid, but there was an off chance that she might think of the shield as being something only for flying. Rolph always kind of did, and Tor had flat out told him to start wearing his shield most of the time. Fake masked Wensa had taught Tor that lesson well enough at least.
He was out of line of sight when he set down, just inside the wall. That way he could walk out and not spook anyone overly, dropping on them from above. When Tor got about fifty feet away he caught the sound of a familiar voice, even if the face was obscured by black cloth covered backs of the men standing in a long single line in front of him.
“We mean no harm and only wondered if you might have food or water that we could buy. We don’t have vast resources right now, so anything would help. Thank you.”
Tor patted one of the men on the shoulder so that he’d step out of the way, looking a little scared he looked down and seeing who it was smiled.
“Thank god. We can let the wizard handle these monsters. What are we supposed to do, build them furniture?” The man muttered softly. Looking down Tor noticed that this man had a concentrator on, probably having scrambled straight from work doing exactly that. Tor nodded and spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear.
“Yes. They’re friends, don’t worry.”
Ursala didn’t miss a step and walked up right behind him, which normally would have been incredibly stupid, but should work out all right this time.
Tor didn’t scurry up, as much as he wanted too. Everyone seemed tense for some reason right now, so he ambled slowly a smile on his face. When he got next to Godfrey he nudged the man’s arm slightly with his hand. The guy jumped, but not having a weapon didn’t try to kill him or anything. Good, that would have looked awkward.
“Hey everyone! Looks like you made it in good time. We don’t have time today to build proper structures to house you all, or well, maybe we do, it doesn’t take that long, but if not, we’ll have to squeeze you all in someplace or have you camp out for the night. Sorry about that. Oh, um, everyone,” He waved at the combat giants, most of whom he knew from school and included Kolb in the gesture, since Tor knew him better, or at least longer, than some of the others.
“This is the military base commander who lives at my house. Major Godfrey. Really nice guy. Clever too. Try to get him to take you up in one of the transports if you get a chance, it’s even faster than flying yourself. Godfrey and um, everyone else?” Tor waved at the fifty men behind him, calling out a little loudly so that they might all hear. He still wasn’t up to producing really good volume, his lungs not having fully recovered from the poison yet.
“Well, you can all introduce yourselves, since we’re all friends here, don’t be shy about it or anything. This man out in front is Baron third, Martin Kolbrin. He’s also a Knight and one of the toughest fighters in the kingdom. More to the point, he’s one of the very best trainers in the kingdom as far as that goes, possibly the world. We, ah, didn’t know these people would be by this soon, but the King wants them to set up a special training division here, so we need to build that on to the back. I’ll be going out in the next few days to, uh, make sure we have the water we need and make sure the King is all up to date on this.”
It was of course, all lies. Mainly at least. The King had mentioned something about training though, right? Also wanting Kolb and his group to not be flying around on their own?
What Tor did know for certain was that Kolb was a bit miffed at the Wards, and a slightly annoyed Kolb was too dangerous to ignore. The King didn’t want him to personally kill them or lead an attack on them. Yet. Otherwise Rich hadn’t seemed angry at any of these people, so it was worth a shot. Besides, Tor had a sneaking suspicion that if he acted like this was the order of the day everyone else would at least pretend to go along with him.
“Um, not to seem high handed, but Kolb, Godfrey, would you both walk with me and… Countess Thorgood here?” It was the first time he’d called her that out loud. She winced a little, but didn’t correct him. It was her duty now, like it or not. He just hated to be the one to rub salt in the wounds like that.
Everyone else held their position in the bright sunlight. Ah, right, order and all that. These people wouldn’t just wonder off on their own.
“Right, for now, Godfrey, do you think your men could see to building a hasty structure or two outside the back wall? I want to expand that way if possible. We need at least two structures if they can manage it. Big enough for all the new people. Kolb, how many women do you have?”
The large man tilted his head and scowled a little at him.
“Thirteen, but,”
Nodding eagerly, Tor cut him off. If he couldn’t talk, he couldn’t question or simply refuse right? Tor had learned that from the big man himself after all. Kolb kind of deserved to have the technique used on him in return.
“Right, so housing for the men and thirteen women… wait, actually, they need to learn to use the equipment themselves. If we could detail men to teach them to use the equipment and build what they need on their own? Better to make them sleep outside for a night than coddle them, given everything. As little help from those that are showing them the ropes as possible, I think? These are people that can be expected to catch on.”
He’d really have to get to water he knew, and fast. New bath houses too. It was always something. His head started to ache just a little.
“Um, yeah. So lots to do. OK, Kolb, this isn’t a military base, it’s my house, but we have a lot of military people here and some, um, special guests of mine…” How did he explain that there were women of industry living here and not seem rude?
Ursala solved that problem for him, her tone serious and straight forward.
“He has his own whorehouse. But I think what he’s getting at is that he wants them treated with respect at all times and like anyone else when they aren’t… on duty? He’s shy about saying things like that, I doubt you or any of your people would be less than courteous, of course, still…”
The bald man, it turned out, wasn’t bald at all, as stubble had come in all over his head. Tor noticed this fact when he nodded.
“Of course. I’ll make certain everyone is cognizant of the situation and behaves…” He still sounded a little baffled but didn’t question Tor for now at least.
“Thanks Ursala, I know I need to learn to be blunter about things like this. They’re good girls, women, and my guests. Godfrey, please pass the word the other way around as well? Not that any of the men here would misbehave like that, since I hear that everyone is very honorable, but not only would trying to, um, get fresh, with any of Kolb’s instructors in an unwanted fashion probably be the last thing they did, if anyone tries to do anything that’s untoward, I will personally be… disappointed in them. Here’s the hard part, if any of the military men actually wants to get to know one of the females in Kolb’s group, that’s allowable, but… Well, they should probably get with him for an introduction first. Is… that alright do you think? I don’t want to keep anyone from getting together or having fun, I just want to avoid problems. Plus, you know, any guy willing to approach Kolb like that is probably at least brave enough for one of those girls to give the once over, right?”
For some reason he didn’t get, everyone in their little group laughed. Was that funny somehow? It made sense to him at least. He wouldn’t have wanted to face Kolb for an introduction to one of his female friends. Especially just for something casual. Then again, Kolb was royal too, so he’d probably have no problem with the idea, as long as the man was up front and polite about the whole thing.
He probably make suggestions about who was best in bed, actually. That idea was strange to Tor, since he’d only ever thought of Kolb as being a fighter. He was a complete person though, like everyone else. The idea kind of set him back for a few seconds. Kolb was a person? How bizarre. Possibly a trick of the mind too. Tor decided to be careful there for the time being and not assume anything.
After five minutes they at least had enough people headed out to the back to have a shot at getting something up in time, before dark fell. If not, Kolb assured them, they could all just camp out till the next day.
“We have been. That’s why we landed here, to see if we could get water or supplies. This is a bit of a surprise. More than a bit.” Kolb looked at him suspiciously.
Tor shrugged. At least he hadn’t been riding him about having lost all that weight and getting out of shape. Yet. It would be coming, he knew. Grinning he told him that he’d just come from a meeting with the King the day before, where his disposition had been discussed. Literally true, which got a nod from Ursala.
“Indeed, I was there for the meeting. A very exclusive one actually. I can’t even tell you who all was there, slit your own throat kind of stuff, but I can say that if Tor tells you that you’re needed to put together an elite unit, that the King will back it fully and completely.”
That was more than Tor had expected from her and it carried a lot of weight coming from a sitting Countess. That she was technically hiding from people that had tried to kill her wasn’t mentioned at all. Really it didn’t matter for the current discussion. He did wonder what Kolb thought about her being there though.
That she’d come to visit Rolph maybe? Or no… Kolb wouldn’t know that the Prince hung out there, would he? Not yet. Maybe he’d think that Ursala was secretly in charge? That kind of made sense.
“Right, so, um Kolb, this might seem awkward to you, but this is, well, it’s kind of my house, like I said, and Godfrey is the military leader here, so we need to discuss the chain of command and all, so that there’s no confusion.” He swallowed but made himself look around and realized that everyone standing and looking at him was older than he was. That wasn’t uncomfortable or anything. Not at all.
“So, Godfrey is in charge of the military section, buildings and if it comes to it, discipline. He has the largest section here at…” Damn, he didn’t have a name yet.
Ursala however, saint that she was, did.
“Wildlands Station. Sara Debri and I came up with it last night. We decided it sounded a little less “Austrans please come bomb us now” than “Tor base” did.”
He beamed at her, a bit of love touching his heart for the tall blonde woman at that moment. Both of them. It was so much better.
“Oooh, good point. So, Wildlands Station. Godfrey has those duties, as well as what he already has. But, obviously, Kolb needs to be in charge of his own section, since we’re going to be training what are pretty much the hyper-elite’s here. For that matter, if we ever come under attack, we want Kolb and his people to take command. Not all of Kolb’s people will be military; it will vary depending on the situation of the moment, so sometimes they might be… anything, even being military one day and something else the next. But while they’re here, they need to follow along with what Godfrey says, even if that means taking a beating, or mucking the stables. Not that we have stables and really, I’d like as little beating as possible… Um, understood Kolb?”
His head came up just slightly.
“That sounds fine. For now at least. I need a better description of what “my section” will be doing, I think. Still, I don’t mind dumping the discipline problems onto someone else. I’ll back your calls.” He said this last to Godfrey directly, getting a nod in return.
“Good. Now, um, we suddenly have a lot of women here, compared to a regular military situation. We haven’t had a lot of problems so far, but for the time being, I’d like for Ursala to be in charge of that? What this means is that, where the ladies, all of them, are concerned, she’s in charge, even if that means over ruling any of us. Functionally this shouldn’t mean much, I don’t think. If one of them gets out of line, Godfrey still deals with it, and all that, but if any special situations come up, girl things that I can’t even foresee, we dump it on her. I mean… Ursala is in charge?” Tor grinned at her hopefully.
The men didn’t seem unhappy with it and the Countess just raised her eyebrows at him and looked bemused. OK, he hadn’t asked first, but she was about the only one he could have do it. Sara was already military now after all and having two military leaders would have unbalanced things. Besides, if it became important, she was the only one he knew that could go head to head with both Godfrey and Kolb at the same time. She was a sitting Countess after all. They had to listen to her. Literally, it was an actual law.
“Good, now, what am I missing?”
A lot, according to the people around him. They needed more buildings, restrooms especially, but at least one more bathhouse, which Tor expanded instantly to two bathhouses, one for the ladies section too, which meant more water. They didn’t need more kitchen space yet, since what they had was incredibly overbuilt as far as that went, but they needed more cooks and bakers. He already knew that, but apparently if he wanted them fast, he was going to have to requisition them from the military, which may not work, because they were in short supply at the moment, A thing which he had no idea how to do at all. Godfrey would have to show him.
If they were doing that, then Godfrey wanted to put in a new shop so that they could keep up with the orders coming in for transports, which, if they did, meant more work for Tor personally. But then most things did. Ursala smiled and suggested that they look into getting some more girls as well, so Tor nodded and suggested that she do just that, getting with Madam Clarissa to find out what she’d need or want. It was her section after all. Of course she’d want it to grow.
Then, grinning, Ursala suggested that they get some boy whores too.
“Um…” Tor said brilliantly.
That was even a thing? Were there enough women that wanted such services here? Really, couldn’t the women just get some of the guys to do that for free? He asked Ursala who shrugged.
“Like the women, most will work for whoever pays them, they’re professionals after all.”
Instead of stammering or judging the suggestion through his own tiny moral window on the world Tor took a deep breath and shrugged.
“Right, well, you and Clarissa work that out, right? Um, I’m suddenly out of my depth here. Totally. I guess… Unless any of them want to cross train with Kolb, Ursala should be in charge of them too? The same is true the other way though. If any of the ladies want to work into Kolb’s section and make the cut, I guess that flips the other way. Confusing.”
Everyone else just agreed with him though, Kolb looking… Oddly considering, to tell the truth.
They also, it seemed, needed a supply depot and store. That way the men, and now ladies, could make small purchases without going all the way into the Capital or waiting until their off days to get things that are convenient from day to day, like soap or thread and needles for clothing repair. Boring stuff, but needed none the less. The physical building they could do, and having the goods shipped, well, they could manage that too, he realized, what they needed was a shop keep. There he drew a blank. Did he even know anyone that could do that?
Well, technically he did. Several. Sara could do the job for instance and Rolph would probably excel at it. He had all those people skills, and could even balance his own books, with his accounting background. The problem there was that Sara already had a military position that was more important than running a tiny store and Rolph was the heir to the kingdom. It would be funny to make him run a little operation like that, and probably a good experience for him, but he was kind of busy, what with the war and all. The only other person he knew personally that could do the task was… Dorgal Sorvee.
Whee, import your own bullies. Brilliant plan.
Tor decided to simply ask in the Capital if there was anyone willing to take up the task. It at least had going for it that it supported the war effort after all. No one paying attention could doubt that.
He left the others discussing everything that was needed and started making copies to see what he could get done before bed time. He was making decent time really, and had made a full batch of water heaters and to his surprise not one but ten full copies of the rivers for Afrak, which he’d thought might be too hard to do at first, but was decently easy, taking only about an hour for all of them, when he found himself being hit in the head repeatedly.
It wasn’t hard or anything, but came from two sides, alternating the thumping. Flicking really. First from a blond girl standing in dust covered leather on his right, and then from another, taller blond on his left, who wore something far cuter than leather, a thin shift that looked to be made of something like silk in a violet color and hugged below her bosoms accentuating them greatly. Ursala had larger breasts than he’d noticed before. He had an excellent view of them from this position, so he could determine that for a fact.
“There he is!” Sara cried out as if she hadn’t just been hitting him in the head.
“Alright, alright, I’m done, for now. Is there an emergency?”
Ursala chuckled at him and moved in to give him a hug that hit him square in the face with her breasts, since he was sitting on the bed. It was closer than he’d ever been to a breast on purpose he though. That he knew of for certain anyway. The soft thing against his arm the day before in the tub might have been one, but he wasn’t sure. Trice had… a few times, but those didn’t count. Not now.
“Yes. Its dinner time and we had to make sure you weren’t planning on going into a coma for another twenty odd days or something. You’re not supposed to be pushing yourself right now, kind of implied in the whole “taking a break for a few days” thing, don’t you think?” She grinned and held his head to her lovingly for a while, making him turn a lot redder than could be strictly healthy.
Dinner that night was decent enough. The bread was fresher than normal for the time of day and they had berry pie for dessert. He proudly pointed out that Sorlee had made it herself for them. That thought brought up the fact that the girl needed help baking if they were going to double the number of people again. He shook himself a little when he heard what Sara was saying.
“So, I told them that you’d have the letter ready to go out in a few days. Is that all right? I know it can’t be a fun thing for you to do, but the King and Queen both requested of mother, through channels, to ask me, to ask you. You see how this works?”
He nodded. Tor saw it clearly. They were ambushing him. Using a sneak attack. In his own home too. Poor form on their part.
Another thing for him to work on it seemed. Alright, what did he need most right now? Oddly enough, other than to finish dinner, and sleep, what came to mind were griddles for the kitchen. He thought he could do the heating devices for them before bedtime. It was a little more of a unique problem than he’d thought at first, but he’d done so many variations of putting heat in one place or another that it just didn’t take that long over all.
Almost as if she’d been waiting for him to turn his light off or something Ursala slipped into bed next to him just a few moments after he’d settled back to go to sleep.
The move surprised Tor more than a little and even more when she started kissing him, warmly, as she pressed against him.
She whispered to him that she really didn’t feel up to having sex yet, because of her poisoning, which he understood fully, he let her know. Plus, he confided to her, he didn’t actually know what to do, so he probably wouldn’t be very good anyway.
Chuckling she told him…
If not everything he’d need to know, a lot of it. He knew that more than once he muttered “what” in a shocked tone that probably sounded strange to poor Sara who was trying to sleep, or at least had turned her own light off so as to not bother them. Seriously, some of the things she claimed peopled did in bed regularly barely seemed physically possible.
Before she left him, about an hour later, she’d managed to get her top off, which she then had him explore intimately and managed to grope him in places that made him blush to think about, even while she did it. It felt nice, and he really wanted to do a lot more. Some of the things she’d mentioned doing sounded alluring, if wrong.
Not the acts themselves, which he figured, if they were really possible to do, were all normal enough, even if a hick like him didn’t know about it. No, Tor just couldn’t escape the feeling that Rolph was going to suddenly burst in and start hacking him apart with a sword. Who could blame him? Except, by the rules of Rolph’s own class, Tor wasn’t even doing anything incorrect at all.
It was confusing.
Ursala kissed him for a while before going back to her own bed, much to Tor’s relief. Oh, he wanted a lot more from her, that was made painfully clear. Denying it wouldn’t work at all, his body had responded way too easily and obviously for him to try and delude himself there. But by the same token, he had to be up in about six hours and was more than a little tired.
The next day he got to baking early, well before Sorlee got into the kitchen at all. He had the plates with him for the griddles, but, well, no griddles.
At breakfast he popped his head into the dining hall, a large building connected by a hallway to the kitchen, so that the heat could be kept out as much as possible without anyone ever having to walk outside with food. It was a solid and glassy reddish color, with magical lights on the ceiling. He found Godfrey sitting with Kolb at a long table and just because he knew that he needed to eat more, got a small plate of food and joined them, pulling over a heavy chair.
He explained the griddles to Godfrey, which after a minute had the man making notes and drawing a basic plan out.
“So the top has to be metal, but the rest can be focus stone?”
“Um, focus stone?” Tor asked, having never heard the term before.
“Yes. Some of the men decided that “Concentrated dirt” didn’t sound like something you’d want your dishware to be made of, so they came up with focus stone. So far most seem to like the name alright.” He sounded slightly nervous, like Tor was going to have a problem with it. Anything not called Tor-whatever was brilliant as far as he was concerned.
“OK, please tell them I like the name, will you? Focus stone for the base and everything but the device and the metal griddle.”
Tor turned the heating devices over to the man and went back to work, wondering how many days it would take for them to be available in the kitchen. The answer was three hours. Even then, one of the men that came over with carrying the griddles in to the room confided, it wouldn’t have taken that long, but they’d had to send someone down to the Capital to buy the metal tops.
Cook, who had a real name that Tor had never learned, he was sure, took to the new devices instantly and most of the lunch meal was prepared on them. Hot meat sandwiches and grease fried potatoes. It wasn’t Tor’s favorite kind of food personally, but the men in the dining hall acted as if it were suddenly a festival day. Tor took some back for Ursala and Sara, only to find that, when he got there, they were both gone. Not knowing what else to do, he settled down to eat his share of the food and wait. When no one came back after half an hour, he decided to walk around and see what was up with everyone else.
He didn’t find the girls, but a whole new compound looked to be going up in the back, complete with a dozen new buildings and their own wall. It was connected on one side to the rest of the wall, which had a large door cut in it now, ten feet high and twice that wide. The huge slab had been removed by cutter, then floated off to the side and was lying out of the way on the ground to the left of the new door. No one paid much attention to him as he walked through, except for when he got in the way for a few seconds, and people started yelling at him to move. Laughing he scampered back just as a team of twenty people, men and women, started digging out a foundation that was marked off to make a vast building he saw. Really big. About half the size of the palace. What it was for he had no clue, but thinking about the palace made him decide to go and visit. First he needed to head off to the beach and lay out the new river for testing…
He shook his head and laughed.
He needed too? No it just had to be done. Tor could just find someone to do it and act like a sensible person for once, not haring off all over the continent trying to do it all himself. He’d just take a couple of the rivers down to the palace with him in a few days or… Would that be a good first training exercise for Kolb’s people? Sure it would, since he was making it all up anyway. How long could they have a new river in place going from the ocean, to both his place and the military base for the flyers, before anyone reported it to the military anyway? If they could manage a couple of hours, that would be pretty good, wouldn’t it? The sun beat down on him, which he didn’t feel the heat from at least as he searched around for the bald man. Who, it turned out was directing the building of guard towers for the walls at the back.
The things were… Big. They stuck up in a way that certainly caught the eye. Not bigger than the palace parapets, perhaps, but with nothing even close to their height around they looked vast. Well, it was fine, he guessed, as long as they balanced it out in the front too. It wasn’t very humble, but maybe no one would notice, being that they were way out in the middle of nowhere? The glassy red-black of the focus stone looked good at least. Count Ross would be jealous of his wall and little town if he ever got to see it or that old gardener or mason fellow who’d laid claim to it would at least.
If he hadn’t already used some of the “borrowed and lost” equipment to make his own new wall. Then enjoyed a soak in a tub with a water heater from the same place? Tor laughed about it. He’d yet to see that box of stuff show up, but then again, maybe they just didn’t know where to send it? Or, just possibly they sent it off to Two Bends like he’d said to. That would be fine. For that matter they could keep it, now that there was a war on, if they could use any of it for the effort.
Tor found some shade that didn’t look too likely to be buried, blown up or needed for the next hour or two, sat down on a single small patch of scrubby grass and waited for Kolb to either finish up or not be needed any more. After about twenty minutes the man noticed him and came over.
“Tor?”
The words were hesitant as if he didn’t know what to call him. Tor worked well enough. It was his name and really, Kolb calling him sir or worse, lord something or other would just be wrong, in more ways than one. Technically he was still just the guys Squire, so “boy” could work, in a pinch.
“You wanted to know a little more about what kind of force you’re supposed to build?” Tor took a deep breath and fell into as deep a trance as he could manage and still talk clearly. He sucked at lying and was only marginally better at making things up on the fly. Planning was his big thing, really, where Tor shined, if he could be said to at all most of the time.
“What we need is a fast action team. You do anything and go anywhere. This is to be results oriented. You’ll get orders, but those will just have the needed goal. Go and do whatever, and the when it needs to be done if that’s important… if the time or timing is important I mean. The rest is up to you and your people. No rules, no one looking over your shoulder and no specific task profile. Anything means anything. One day you might take on a Count’s army by yourselves, the next you may all be servicing sailors in some port whorehouse. You’ll never have enough time, resources or planning and will probably have to set out to do everything on a moment’s notice as a rule. Right now I want you to pick a team for your first job.” Tor smiled.
“This time, luckily, it’s nothing dangerous. I just need a test river put up and figured I could pawn it off on you all right now.” He explained the particulars of it, how to set the twelve plates so that it would go to all the right places and what the known dangers were.
“Really, school kids with flying rigs should be able to do this in a day, and be back without ever needing to stop in a town even. The only thing is, I kind of want to see how long we can have a six hundred mile river twice the volume of the falcon’s up and running before it’s reported to the King or his top military officials. That’s the set up and the real test. You have the goal and it’s up to you. For this I’d prefer no one be killed, myself, but that’s up to you and your team’s discretion. Make it part of the assignment or not. When can you have people ready to go?”
The man looked vexed, as if he wanted to say he didn’t know, but instead he shrugged. “Inside three hours?”
That would do. It was just a training exercise after all.
“There’s… I think that this next bit is a bit more delicate and we have to consider it real. In the next two days I need a package delivered to the King. I don’t care how it gets there, it just has to be fast and no one can be allowed to know about it. Especially nobles. The Royal Guard is probably safe, but no one else. This is… It’s the real deal Kolb. I mean, if your people have to… to kill people to make sure this gets through and no one can report to… anyone, then they have permission. Try not too of course! I have to justify everything to the King.”
Tor grinned and shook his head.
“That’s the kicker here, isn’t it? I have no real control over what you do or how you do it. Once you’re up and running, you’ll answer to the King first, the Queen second and the royal family third. You never answer to anyone lower. Ever. Not the military, not the council of counts and not me. I just have to go to the gallows if you guys do something I can’t back up with a good reason later. Yay. So you know, please try and not get me killed?”
Tor stood up then and started to walk away.
“Have you been getting any exercise at all lately then?” Kolb asked his back, having analyzed his state from the act of standing.
“Um… not really. No.” Lying would just be too obvious the man had observed his every move for over two years practically. Now he was limping around like an old man still, puffing slightly just from standing up and walking ten feet. Not good at all.
“Right, so, as the… I don’t know, commander of this whatever it’s called, do I get to boss you around still?” His voice held a chuckle in it, but Tor turned and nodded.
“Yes, most likely, as long as I’m not busy doing my own work. I’m not in the military, or in this… You need to come up with a name, then again, maybe not. Use your best judgment. Not my call. I’m still your Squire. Why? Do you need me to make something for you?”
The larger man in his gray leather outfit that looked old and worn already, even if it had been new a few months before, looked a little like Tor had sucker punched him or something.
“What? Are you saying that if we need something from you, just send in a requisition form and you’ll do the work?” He looked incredulous.
“Well, try not to work me to death, but yeah, that’s about the size of it. Just send a person over though, no forms if we can help it. Obviously. We can’t afford to leave a paper trail, can we? Why else have you all here? You need something to get the job done and if I can do it, I help. You need gold I give it to you, or… well if you ever need a baker, or someone that looks like a first year school boy, then here I am. If not, then you’re on your own, but as for weapons, shields, flying rigs, you get what you ask for. Novel builds, well, if you ask for the impossible, I won’t be able to do it most likely. I imagine everything will always be on a time limit with you guys too, so you’ll have to plan ahead for what you want if possible. Sorry about that, but unless the Austrans or whoever send a letter before showing up, then that’s what we have to work with.”
Walking away again, Kolb called something out.
“Alright then. From now on, at two o’clock in the afternoon, I expect you to meet me or my designated trainer right here. On any day that your other work allows at least. Try to schedule that in though. You look pitiful.” Kolb pointed at his feet.
Tor kept walking and heaved a sigh. He hadn’t really thought that he’d get away without doing anything, but he’d kind of hoped that Kolb would forget after he dumped all that made up information on him. Tor knew one thing; he badly needed to get with the King before he heard about this from someone like Smythe. That, he knew, forming his own little super-army of insane giant warriors, probably wouldn’t be very popular.
If the King didn’t like the idea, he might just be in trouble.
The transports, since they were all controlled by their people and had so far moved very carefully around the palace area, had been allowed to fly over the city to park there. It got past the gate guards and while it was leaving some dead patches on the lawn, the focus stone craft didn’t look that bad sitting there the other day. Tor wondered if he could get a flight to the palace.
No one was going out just then, but Godfrey mentioned that he had four more of the griddles already finished, and that the kitchens there might just want to try them out. It took a bit to get the new griddles loaded, but by cheating a little and using luggage floats, the follow along kind, Tor and Godfrey managed to get them all in place within about twenty minutes. The things were heavy, probably nearing four hundred pounds each, even though most of it was just a frame, that, if made of wood, might have weighted twenty or thirty pounds tops.
It was a good enough excuse to go to the palace grounds, but Tor didn’t know if it would be enough to get him in to see the King. No one came out to meet them at all, not even to tell them to get off the grass. Tor and Godfrey unloaded slowly, trying to make certain no wild eyed Royal Guard was going to suddenly rush them weapons blazing, to protect the King’s honor or some such. Possibly just to keep things off the lawn if orders had come down for that. The new griddles got placed in two rows, one at a time while they waited.
The last one came off the transport through the fold down side door that turned into a fairly handy ramp, since there was a foot high difference between the inside floor and the ground outside to make certain the whole thing was sturdy in flight. Looking harried, Karina bolted through the door, floating a little above the ground and heading towards them at what had to be nearly full speed for the old fashioned Not-flyer that she had.
“Gentles, please forgive my tardiness, I was sent on a pressing errand and… Tor, what are those?” A pale finger pointed daintily at the closest of the griddles. She sounded completely baffled and it didn’t really clear up even after he explained how they worked.
She smoothed her dress, something that was actually brown and a plain brown too, not some gem colored or expensive looking thing. It made her look a little like, not just a palace servant, but particularly one of the scullery maids. She looked a lot cuter this way than she normally did too, which baffled Tor for a bit as he watched her. Why would that be? Was brown just that good a color on her? Finally it clicked in his brain and he chuckled, which got a slightly peeved look from her, because she got that he was staring at her dress. Well, that or her breasts.
“Yes?” She asked, managing to make it sound slightly dangerous.
“Oh, nothing, I just realized that you looked even better than usual, cuter, even in a fairly plain dress, and I just worked out that it’s because you look more approachable. You know, less “get away from me peasant-how dare you gaze upon me” and more “hey, I just work in the kitchen, lets chat”. That’s… really a pretty good idea. I mean Rolph went away to school mainly to learn how to not be all stuck on himself right? You don’t get to do that, go off to school I mean, especially now with a war on I bet, but working for a while would have to be character building. Not that they can afford to let you do something like that right now, but maybe when there’s a chance you should look into it. Wash dishes or tend the gardens for a year or two?”
She stuck her tongue out at him, but then grinned.
“It can’t be less fun than running out to have old men trying to feel me up constantly. They wouldn’t be so bad about it if they knew who I was, but all these old lechers keep pinching me! At least when I’m dress properly they mainly recognize me and don’t leave bruises. Do all common girls have to put up with this all the time? I always thought I had it bad being a Princess, getting propositioned once a month or so, but I swear at least half the men coming through here have tried to sleep with me in the last two days! Worse, most of them are relatives, so talk about icky. ”
That was actually something Tor didn’t know. Did they? Not from him, but as he was coming to realize he might not be the best person to judge others by, for some reason. He hoped not, that sounded really off-putting. Poor girls.
It turned out that the new rules said that if one of them was going outside at all, they had to be dressed like a servant. Tor looked down and realized he could pass at least. Godfrey kind of looked military and having obviously come from the craft next to them, it would be hard to sell any of them as just regular people at the moment. He suggested that they confuse the situation by getting a passel of real servants to come from the kitchen and help take the griddles where they needed to get to.
Laura would want to test it first, he presumed, before wasting kitchen space on them. That was only fair. If they weren’t exactly what she needed then they wouldn’t make the cut, nor should they. As long as he got good feedback, Tor could fix any problems. Hopefully at least.
It would have taken him an hour of walking around and begging to bring the needed people, Karina just raised her right hand and asked for the kitchen staff that could be spared at the moment. She just spoke to the air, not looking at anyone at all. Only a light luncheon was being served that day, so twelve people ran over to them about ten minutes later. It was that eerie palace thing again. He needed to remember to never say anything he didn’t mean to be known by everyone while there.
Like threatening Debri house or the Morgans? Tor winced to himself. Oops. No wonder Smythe tried to kill him. He really had been just venting though. Mainly. Note to self, he thought, don’t vent here. Got it.
In the midst of all the brown clad people he had Karina help him move one of the griddles towards a shed past the pond garden, they both huffed and puffed, by the time they were halfway there, and had half a dozen other people helping them do the work. They could have used the follow along float, but he needed to whisper to her a little. If the fear was watchers, he needed to be careful too, right?
“Karina, this is, well, delicate. I need to have a private audience with the King, then, if I’m still alive, with your mother, Rolph, Varley and you. Um, tell the King it… Tell him it involves Varley, but this needs to be a real secret meeting first please, not one with a half dozen listeners in the walls? I, I couldn’t handle that right now…” Tor gasped this out and felt his muscles tremble, which probably served to make him look more than a little scared.
Acting skills? Zero. Looking like a scared child? One hundred percent. Or at least sounding like one. The beard was growing in pretty nicely now and aged him up a good bit. Now he looked like a small adult instead of a kid at least. Or at least a boy with a fake beard, so people could guess he was trying to look older.
The Princess grinned knowingly and ran off without saying anything more. She actually ran, which, honestly, was a wise thing that he needed to point out later. Either that or give Not-flyers to all the staff. More work for him, but that might actually be the more popular option. He finished helping to move the griddle, because it had to be moved anyway, and just walking off would be something a real servant wouldn’t have done. Not that he had to worry personally since he had a shield on and all, but if it was a rule, he’d follow it as best he could while he was there.
Karina didn’t come back over at least, just standing and gesturing at the door, which was a little lazy if she was a servant gesturing to some high lord, but was about perfect for a servant girl trying to get another servant to come to her. Tor wondered if it was just that Karina was that slothful by nature or if she was smart enough to work all this out on her own? Rolph and Varley were both smart, so why not their sister too? He’d never seen it exactly, but shallow and a little too concerned with what other people thought of you was different than dumb.
Not living her life, he couldn’t even say that she was actually shallow and vain even. Maybe in her world what he saw as being self-centered was actually something else from her perspective? Something needed, even if he didn’t know why? That there were thing he didn’t know about royal girls was so clear that he might as well wear a sign saying it all the time. Or, could he have it embroidered on the back of a shirt? That would work too and probably be more comfortable. Embroidery was expensive to hire done though and he didn’t have time to learn the skill himself, so the world would probably just have to guess at his lack of knowledge on this topic. That was fine. Most people would probably just look at him and be able to tell.
It took nearly a minute for him to get to her; Tor tried to hurry, but the half jog he could manage after the moving of the heavy equipment was just that pitiful. At least she didn’t make him talk when he got to her, she just put out her arm for him to take, so she could steady him if need be.
“Dad said to tell you to be at the place from before in ten minutes. I asked him when before, but he said you’d know?” Bright coppery red hair in a braid today, she flung her head around sharply to toss it over her right shoulder, so that it draped cutely, and gave him a proper village girl style “come hither” look.
“So, if I can ask without it being off-putting, why Varley and not me? I’m older and, well, I know she’s prettier than me, but I’m a lot closer to the throne and all that, if that kind of things important to you at all. Unless, well, she does look a lot like mom, and I know you like her a lot.”
“Um, yeah, about that, could we talk about that if your dad doesn’t have me killed outright? Besides, you already have a marriage lined up, don’t you?” He asked, not wanting to give everything away in public. That walking down a gray and empty hallway trimmed in a wood was somehow “public” baffled him even as he knew it was probably true. At least he knew that no one could hide in the walls of his little focus stone hut.
She agreed to wait, very grudgingly, and a little grumpily she set off down a side hallway as he worked his way towards what would be nearly the innermost part of the palace. He got lost twice, before he found the drab door with the stairs behind it. At least the light plates were already on. Grinning slightly Tor finally activated his Not-flyer and got to try going down the stairs. The ride wasn’t perfectly smooth, but it only felt like riding down a giant wash board, not jarring at all. The lights and walls zipped by, but when he started to pull his right hand back he slowed to a stop just before he reached the bottom.
He tapped on the metal door, still gray and cold. No noise came. His shield, right. Torrance could move things with it, pick them up if he was careful, but the energy from rapping or hitting something would go into the ground unless he was in the air. Instead of knocking again, he opened the door carefully, to find the room totally empty except for the King.
Richard sat in the big chair on the far end, legs apart, hands resting on the arms a heavy and untreated looking wood. The posture made him seem huge, which he was, but bigger even than normal. At least he smiled pleasantly.
“Tor! Please come in and close the door. So you want to talk to me about Varley?” He said this loudly, happily, as if he didn’t care who heard, but wanting to make Tor feel comfortable about the situation too.
“Normally, in our circles, you approach the girl’s mother first, but I understand the country system can be a little different at times? Connie and I have talked about this at length and Veronica has asked if it would be possible, asked her mother at least. As a Countier fourth, we feel that your claim is good enough to get a hearing. That you’re Tor and have done things for the kingdom that few ever even hope to approach and in only a few short months… well how could we refuse? Veronica still has to agree of course, but if she does, you have our full support.”
Tor nodded for a moment, then stopped.
“Um, sorry. What?”
“We give our blessing. Torrence Baker, we offer you the hand of the Royal Princess Veronica Hope Cordes in marriage.”
“Oh.” Tor muttered weakly.