Tor nearly just left the city in embarrassment when the gate guards tried to turn him away again at first. He didn’t have an invitation.
No one had even mentioned the idea to him before. Count Thomson had one, printed in a fine hand on sturdy paper; it was black ink on a smooth cream colored paper that he’d never seen the like of before. It even had his sister’s name on it; right there in hand inked lines. Rolph hadn’t mentioned even needing one at all! Well, at least he’d warned Collette that this might happen. She didn’t seem overly put out by it at least, just shrugging it off.
“Do I get to keep the amulets? I think that I could use them to deflect the worst of Maria’s bites tomorrow… God that sounds mercenary doesn’t it? I just-” the woman shrugged a little and touched his arm gently, leaving her hand on it as the gate guards kind of glared at them for not having the proper papers. Had the invitation just been some kind of game then? Why? Then again, they were all royals and everyone knew that they didn’t do things in a straight foreword manner if they could help it. Even Tor had grown up with stories about that.
So was this really him being snubbed? Worse he’d brought his own witnesses. Crap.
He should have just skipped it, shouldn’t he?
“Of course, heck, I’ll load you up with amulets and fields if you want them, I brought plenty. I guess I really did make someone mad at me here. I wonder what I did? Probably being too short or something silly like that. Well, anyway, Tovey, would it be all right if we borrowed the carriage to get Collette back home? I’m horribly embarrassed about all this. I was asked by Rolph and Varley to come personally, they said that it was directly from the King and Queen and I figured… well, I guess things are different than I thought? Nothing for it now.”
He forced a smile, even knowing he sounded horrible. It was just that his stomach was making an effort to sink through the bottom of his tummy that did it. Probably trying to hide, away from the shame he’d brought on them.
The Count and Tor’s sister both got out, but looked uneasy doing it. Tor made a point of giving the King’s presents to the Count for delivery, since it was right there anyway, and the little gift he’d worked up for the Queen as well. Why should their fun be ruined? He told them to go and have a good night, sounding like it was a funeral the whole time.
Poor Collette had to ride back with him in borrowed shame, instead of mixing and mingling like she’d planned. She looked so pretty too. Anyone keeping her out of a party was a moron, Tor decided, feeling lower than he’d felt in days.
Really he would have just left the Capital right then had it been just him, just rising into the air and flying off, dark or not, but he owed her at least something for having shown up with him. When they got to her house he off loaded a large amount of plates, water heaters, room temperature controls, a few more of the glowing amulets, five personal shields and flying rigs along with two luggage plates. It wasn’t enough, he knew, so he gave her four more amulets for luggage, but anything more would be getting redundant. Collette hugged him as he turned to leave.
“Don’t worry, it’s just an oversight I’m sure. Things do happen with large events like this.” She sounded a little worried though, slightly upset. Warnings or not, he’d really let her down, he knew. Tor should have seen it coming.
Why hadn’t he?
Because he was foolishly trusting, that was why.
Moron.
He knew she was probably right, but it felt like he was being snubbed on purpose. It wouldn’t have been a big deal, if he hadn’t been asked so very clearly like he had been. If no one had said anything about it, and just left him at the bakery after delivering his stuff, it would have been all right. Oh well. He walked back to Debbie’s, so that the carriage could get back to the party were it might be needed later. When he got back, not too late, since the Baronetta lived about a slow ten minute walk away, even with his luggage floating along behind him on the fairly busy street, he found that Debbie hadn’t even left yet. The clock on the wall said it was only about nine-thirty. They’d made decent time in the carriage for once at least.
“You’re back already? Did you forget…” When Debbie looked at his face she cringed. “What happened?”
The explanation didn’t make very much sense to him, or to her either. After all, she’d heard the Prince and Princess ask him to come themselves, and assured him that he hadn’t misunderstood or anything. It wasn’t the wrong night or time. They’d both been very clear, and she reminded him, insistent that he come. He asked her if she’d help him undo the lacing, so that he didn’t have to try and break it in order to get out of the clothing. She locked the door and went to work.
“Tor, you do know you’re glowing, don’t you? Is that…bad? Like a combat aura? Only for Wizards?”
Laughing he explained the amulet, took his off and gave it to her. They were pretty useless over all; you could just barely read by the light, but looked pretty enough in the dark. Shrugging he unpacked most of the contents of the trunk he’d loaded with various things and left it with her, setting devices on her counter. Her look seemed scared at first, but he told her that she could sell them, or if she wanted, give them away. He made little piles out of the remaining things and told her that he’d be gone in the morning and apologized for leaving her in a lurch.
“It’s, really it’s probably nothing, an oversight like Collette said or… I don’t think I’ve done anything that bad to anyone at least, but if the King or Queen is out to get rid of me, or just doesn’t want me here, I’d better get out of their city, you know? Just in case. I’ll leave in the morning, if that’s all right? They know I’ve been working here and I don’t want to track trouble to you if there is something.”
After she left, he felt like crying, but didn’t. He’d been silly to think that any of them liked him after all. Tor was just some kid their son knew from school and while they’d been nice to him, it wasn’t reasonable to expect them to want him to be around, was it? Who was he to even imagine that was possible? Some country hick that didn’t even know all the correct social rules. He hadn’t even known that he’d need an invitation on paper.
Really Tor had never even heard of that before, so even knowing to ask was out of the question.
A light came from outside, through the windows in front. Tor went out to watch the show, looking up in the sky with hundreds of others on the street, most of who clapped or made noises like it was a fireworks display. It wasn’t.
He knew what it would do, of course, he’d built the device, but seeing the huge spinning disc of colored light shift and fade over the Capital made him feel good for a second. It was complex and interesting to look at and made for a decently good show, he thought. Except that it was made by him. After a few minutes a face appeared in it, translucent and glowing still. The face of the King. His face looked strong and regal, holding just a hint of a playful smile, what he’d seen from the King every time there hadn’t been an emergency. Then Connie’s came, looking youthful and radiant. Rolph followed, a little more solid looking than the others, a little more lifelike, because he hadn’t had to work from old memories to build that face at all, just look across the dorm room. Karina looked happy, almost joyful since he’d remembered how she’s seemed when he’d given her something or other and Varley looked about three years older than she actually was. Pretty though. As lovely as her mother at least.
It was probably too gaudy and cheap for them, he found himself thinking, almost wishing they’d just turn it off. Instead they left it running all night long, the order changing after the first time through, the main colors of the wheel shifting from deep purple and gold to blue and green, then fire colors, orange and yellow.
He’d been stupid to give it as a gift, thinking it was the equal of… anything. A basket of rolls would have been as good, better even, because at least the servants could have eaten them. Or the dogs. Did they keep dogs? Probably. They could use them to chase down runty troll peasants like him, if they got too annoying. Now everyone would see how stupid he was. With that thought, he fell asleep.
Kind of.
He woke over and over again, unable to feel comfortable no matter what position he took on the hard pallet. He’d been fine the night before. But now it just didn’t work for him and he kind of ached as he laid waiting for the dawn.
When first light came, finally, he got up knowing he probably looked listless. Tor brushed his teeth, just so they’d be clean, and collected his things up slowly, feeling horrible the whole time. He waited for Debbie to get there, standing out front, so that he wouldn’t leave with the door unlocked. Not that he thought anything bad would happen. Most of the city was asleep still and even the boss came in later than she had been, knowing that would be true. But it just felt rude and right now he didn’t want to do anything that would leave anyone else feeling slighted if he could help it. He asked directions to the nearest gate in the outer wall and she pointed and told him to go up three streets and then follow the road he found on the left until he hit the wall.
“You can’t miss it. I…” She looked down but didn’t say anything.
Right, she had to get to work and here he was leaving her without a chance to find extra help. Still, since he didn’t know what was possibly going on, not for certain, it would be better if he just left, drawing off any attacks so that only he was affected. The walk to the wall took most of the morning, but the guards at the gate didn’t try to stop him, even though they stared at the boxes training after him. Probably wondering if he was smuggling something out of the city. Once outside the gate he reset the cases to fly, using the regular floats and then decided to take off without waiting any longer.
He was hungry, but he didn’t have money with him to speak of, having left the last five golds and two silvers he had under the cash box for Debbie. He hated the idea of leaving her like this after having promised to work with her, good reason or not. Also Tor didn’t want to risk being caught. They may not hurt him, but they might embarrass him in public again. Probably just standing around, pointing and mocking him for sport or something.
It might not be fair of him to think that, but the whole thing kind of felt that way already. Like they were snubbing him, just to make a point about how much less he was than they were. Maybe that was what they were really doing? Just letting the world know how little he actually counted?
The flight was faster going back to the school, since he flew directly there and didn’t bother stopping in Galasia, where they apparently thought he was a tiny evil troll anyway. With a big nose. He landed outside his room in the courtyard, the cobblestones uneven and hard under foot. He nearly tripped on one of them, so he kicked at it a little angrily, which did nothing useful at all. Then, without considering how dangerous it might prove to be, he reactivated the flight rig and the floats on the cases, lifted up slowly and resettled them on the third floor walk way just outside his room. From there he could drag them both in without having to try and get help going up the stairs.
Having nothing else planned for the day, he just sat in his room and waited. Nothing would happen he knew, but what else could he do at all? Work?
That… actually made sense.
There was a need for excavating in Galasia, and even if they did think he was an evil troll, that still had to be done. A few kids getting the wrong idea about him didn’t mean a whole city deserved to be left in a lurch. Also, he kept putting off making that house drier for that lady he’d met at that palace diner. The one that they’d let him go to. Tor didn’t know her name, but he had directions to her house somewhere around his room.
Also, there was an idea he’d been playing around with for a while, one that probably wouldn’t sell at all, but might be kind of nice to have, if just for himself. Tiny beverage coolers and warmers that let you set the temperature of whatever you had in your cup. With a little practice he could work it into the cup itself, so it wouldn’t even need a separate plate or anything. It was pure luxury really, but might be good for traveling, since technically you could cook or chill a one person meal in it, if it was made right.
Tor got some water, went to the restroom and started working without hesitation as soon as he settled on the bed. If nothing else he still had his work, even if no friends were left to him. After two days he had the first half of what would be needed for Galasia. He went to the dining hall for diner, ate as much as he could, and slept till morning. Then he started on the second half.
The first part was easy enough; after all, it was the same basic principle as moving water, right? Sure it took a stronger field, but no one would insist on moving tons of earth per second, so the amount moved could be smaller, about three foot square per second. He tested it by flying out to the weapons range and working in the mostly destroyed field along side of it. In less than an hour he’d built a thick berm wall along the back and side. He made the otherwise flat part tilt a little so that water would run out the back, away from the other part of the range. It wouldn’t do to flood it after all.
The second part was something totally new, and harder because of it.
The idea was simple enough; just compress the earth in a given area so much that it turned solid. The reverse of an explosive weapon basically, giving an area the instruction to move inward instead of out. But it took a lot of field strength to work a relatively small area down into something hard enough to withstand water. He worked for days and days on it, trying to make the field big enough to be useful.
Rolph came back, but didn’t bother to talk to him, because he was working the whole time, Tor figured. Might as well chat up a wall for all the good it would have done him. As soon as he actually had something worth putting forward for a grade, he went to Fines and showed him how it worked. The instructor was impressed. All of them were.
Tor didn’t care much himself.
Everything just felt like it lacked color. It was like he did things, but they didn’t have meaning at all for some reason he couldn’t explain or even understand. Not that it mattered. All he had was work, right? So he did it and refused to stop.
For once even Kolb wanted to see what he’d done and asked him out to the range with him for a demonstration. Tor didn’t wait to explain, he just started firming up the back berm wall with the new device. It took about an hour and the berm lost about fifty percent of its size from front to back, but nothing they had would scratch it when it was finished. If it wasn’t as hard as stone, it was because it was harder, Tor figured.
“Still, Tor, don’t neglect your own improvement in fighting. As far as I can tell you haven’t even run in months and you’ve been losing weight. Your muscle tone is crap, and let’s face it, you didn’t have that much to begin with. Even if you don’t want to practice fighting any more, you need to exercise for health reasons…”
The tone of voice surprised Tor a lot. He sounded worried.
Sure, Tor had spent a lot of time working, which was low on exercise, at least the way he did it. But it hadn’t been that long since he’d worked out, a little over two weeks. He chuckled and promised the giant bald man that he’d start working with Karen again, at least between work projects.
“If, you know, she’s willing to still work with me. I mean, I don’t want to get her in trouble with the King or anything.”
Kolb asked for an explanation saying he hadn’t heard of anything that would be a problem that way. After Tor told him what had happened the man grunted.
“Oh, that sort of situation? Well, I wish I could tell you it was nothing, but that kind of thing can mean anything from a few paperwork errors to utter disdain and hate. I’ll… see if I can find anything out about it for you. Until we hear something, it probably really is best for you to keep your head down a bit. You’re right to be worried about Karen and your other friends though. No need to get them mixed in something they can’t do anything about. Wars have been started over lesser things.” Kolb put a large hand on Tor’s back and patted it a few times.
“For now try not to worry too much. I’ll look into it; I have a few contacts left in the Capital after all.” The giant smiled and didn’t say anything else on the matter.
Just to be health conscious, and make the weapons instructor happy Tor jogged back to his room instead of flying, it was only about three miles, then hit the bath before going to bed. He’d already rigged all the tubs with heaters, so at least he didn’t have to try and wash in cool water this time. It wasn’t to the point where the water from the roof mounted tanks would go freezing, but when it did, at least the poor kids like him would be able to have a warm soak too, not just the rich ones that could afford the luxury of fire warmed baths in town. More, on the schools tubs you could control the temperature to your liking now. Try that using a fire while you boiled in a big ceramic pot, he thought with a dry chuckle.
He skipped dinner, choosing an extra long soak instead, and went to bed early, sleep suddenly feeling more valuable than eating. He woke a little bit when Rolph came in, but didn’t say anything. What could he say? If his parents didn’t like Tor, his friend would either be forbidden from talking to him at all, or have to try and lie and claim that everything was all right.
If it really was just a small error somewhere along the way though, then why had the same thing essentially happened twice?
It sucked, but Rolph had to pick his parents, even if it meant not liking him anymore. It’s just what you did, sticking with family over strangers.
Not that he’d thought of himself as a stranger. It all would have felt easier if he knew who was mad at him and why. Then he could at least apologize for whatever he’d done, right? Even if they still hated him, he could know that he’d done his bit to make things right.
The next day, after breakfast and classes, he made himself run to the next town over and back twice. It hurt. A lot really. By the time he got back to the room he felt his legs and lower back stiffening up already. Another warm bath helped, but Tor knew that he’d be paying for it the next day. Kolb had been right it seemed. He really needed to keep up with the exercise, at least every few days. Especially running, now that his left ankle had healed up some, because who knew when he’d need to run away screaming in a panic?
Kolb had taught him his “battle cry” on purpose after all.
“Run away.” If only he could.
Instead of sleeping he worked out the moisture removal system for that ladies home, whoever she was, feeling a little bad that it had gotten left so long. At least he’d warned her about that. Still, it felt lazy and slow, like he was cheating her, and leaving an innocent person to suffer.
It was easy enough once he started. There were two plates. One told water vapor in the air to leave a given region in space and collect at the site of the second plate. It would corrode eventually, being damp most of the time, but the field would last for a few years at least, even with that being the case. He’d have to figure out where the woman’s house was and take it to her himself, because he didn’t have the money to mail it any more. No huge thing, he could do it on his next off day and it would get to her faster anyway. Mail would take weeks. Better, he could set it up for her so that she and her people wouldn’t have to struggle to figure it all out. It was new after all, which could make working with it harder.
That basic pattern kept going for a while, about two weeks, broken up only by exercising every few days on his own and not really eating enough. Tor got to classes and worked, but that was about it. He just didn’t have the time when the meal hall was serving food most days and still didn’t have anything coming in from Debri. Torrance kind of wondered if he ever would. After all, if the military was run by the King and the ruler was snubbing him personally for some reason, would they ever see any money for the devices at all? Even if they got paid, would he ever get anything from it? Even Sara had pointed out several times that most merchants would rob you blind if they got a chance and he hadn’t exactly been tough with Debri house about it or anything. Maybe he should pay them a visit and check on things soon?
If he was allowed back in the Capital at all.
Early in the morning of his off days, before it was really even light, he took off for the woman’s house. It turned out, once he read the paper she’d sent for him with instructions as to where she lived, that she was a Countess, or had been until her husband had died, leaving her to live in the dowager property when her oldest son inherited.
Ellen Ward was her name.
Ah. Well.
At first Tor almost backed out. Ward. Those people gave him the creeps. Then he realized that the woman, the Counts mother, had seemed polite and kind at the party, even after the whole Ursala thing. He couldn’t blame her for having a son that wasn’t… bright. The word moronic came to mind, and Tor smiled a bit as he packed things up, but then chided himself. Who was he to even think about such things? Ward hadn’t done anything to him after all. Well, he’d hit him about two hundred times, but that was only because Tor had been getting in his way, right?
County Ward was very nearly on the other side of the kingdom, about three thousand miles away, so he started off early and tried to fly as close to straight through as his bladder would allow. It only took about nine hours and that long only because his stomach finally forced him to stop in a small village and try to get some food.
He smelled out a little bakery, about the size of the one his parents held in Two Bends, but with a fresh coat of paint on the outside of it and a sign that had a loaf of bread and a small man standing behind it with a bread paddle. There was no name on the place, but that wasn’t too uncommon. Even in the Capital names were rare on shops. Everything there was designated by the type of place and location. Debbie’s was called “the bakery by the south wall and the Cartwright’s.” for instance. Here it was probably just “the bakery”. Why give it a more complicated name than it needed?
Tor didn’t have any money at all, not even a few pennies left for supplies. If Debri stopped sending him stuff, he’d have to go back to using wood and cheap paint, or even trying to collect stuff out of the woods. Rocks and branches. It would work, but was hardly professional looking. He took a deep breath and steeled himself as he walked through the door. The old man behind the counter smiled at him.
“Welcome! What can we do for you today?”
“Um, well, probably not much,” Tor began, keeping his voice humble. “I don’t really have any coin with me, but I have some things that I could trade, if you’re interested? Just some stuff I made, magical devices…”
The man didn’t frown at him, but his eyes fell a little dark. Sympathetic enough at least, Tor realized.
“Well then, let’s have a look, and see if there’s anything that we can trade for?” The man’s voice was pleasant and gentle, kind of like the way you’d speak to a lost child. That made sense when the royals did it, but this guy wasn’t any taller than he was. Not even an inch. Tor opened the luggage he had with him and laid a few things on the counter. The man’s eyes went wide.
“Well now! Even if they don’t do much I can trade you what you want for even one of these! All on copper right? They even look like Tor’s! People would wear one just to impress their friends you know. Well, you probably do know, if you made them yourself. Good plan that. Do any of them really do anything?”
“Oh sure… Here.” He showed the man how everything worked, one by one, at the end of it the man stood silent.
“What did you say your name was again?” He asked, staring at the devices on the counter.
“Oh…sorry, I didn’t, Torrence Baker. Call me Tor. Pleased to meet you.” Belatedly he stuck out his hand to shake with the man, leaning in from a good ways away as was proper back home when meeting someone new. The older fellow snorted slightly and shook his head.
“You’re shorter than I thought you’d be, and look younger too. Is that magic? Looking so young I mean?” He said bluntly but with good humor.
Tor shrugged, “Just the way I look. But… you think we can do business?”
The man finally traded three loaves of bread and some sweet rolls to him for a room temperature plate. The man offered a lot more, but Tor knew he wouldn’t be able to finish it all that day, and having baked goods a lot longer than that meant eating them stale or trying to make them into a pudding or something, which he didn’t really have the time or equipment for. Or the eggs. If there was a way of making a decent bread pudding without eggs, he didn’t know it.
He’d be back at school by then anyway. He thanked the old guy and started eating part of one of the wheat loaves as he walked out the front door, it was decent. His parents made better bread, but not that much better. Really it was a matter of taste and Tor simply preferred what he’d grown up with, most likely, rather than the fellow here lacking skill at all. Repacking everything he took off for County Ward again.
The dowager estate was nice enough, from a distance at least, a huge white house, that, while it had seen better days still looked like a wealthy person lived there. Tor could understand the moisture problem here now that he saw it, since the whole place seemed to be sitting on high ground in the middle of what was essentially a swamp. The humidity left him soaked clear through, since his body was cooler than the air around him.
Poor woman, being kept out here like this. He assumed it was her place at least, since there was nothing else even near it for miles and the compound had about twenty buildings scattered about it. No poor farmer would have that kind of set up, right? He’d only brought one of the house driers… Well, he’d just have to send her more, or bring them himself; now that he knew where to find her for sure. If, this was, he reminded himself, the right place.
He knocked on the door of the largest house, hoping that it would at least lead him in the right direction if he’d missed his mark. To his surprise the woman, Dowager Ward, answered the door herself, wearing a light looking tannish-gray skirt and a faded blue top, things that his own mother would have worn in the bakery. It made him feel better about her instantly. Royal or not, this wasn’t a woman that bothered to put on airs, not at home at least.
She stared at him for a few seconds before her face lit up.
“Oh! Master Tor! I didn’t expect to see you here… To what do I owe the pleasure?” Her voice sounded a little nervous, but then if she lived off in the middle of nowhere like this, having a sudden guest might throw her off. He struggled to put her at ease.
“I came to install that gift I promised you at the party? The one to help dry your house out? It really won’t take but a few moments and then I can get out of your hair. I’m really sorry to drop in unannounced like this, but given my typically thoughtless style I didn’t think of writing ahead until after you opened the door. Kind of makes it hard to get a letter out in a timely fashion. I can go and write one now, if I could borrow some paper and a pen? Seems a bit of a waste though… ” He smiled up at her, she was, now that he saw her standing, very tall for a woman. Even one of the royals. She must have been pushing nearly seven foot. Then, Count Ward was tall too, so that kind of made sense. She had that same kind of smooth looking dark skin the Count had and retty light brown eyes, if a little yellow around the edges with age.
She invited him in and immediately started to apologize for the state of the house. It looked clean to Tor, at least as nice as he and Rolph kept their room at school and Rolph was picky about things like that, constantly suggesting that they go over the room and never leave anything sitting out if they weren’t actively using it. The furniture looked old and worn, but the constant moisture probably ate at everything, aging it faster than it normally would have. The wood seemed to fare better than the fabric, which was something that he tried to make a note of. Eventually, if all went well, he’d have his own house and want to put things in it. Wood over soft things for durability. Check. Probably stone over wood if he had to live someplace damp like this then? Something to keep in mind.
The room did smell of mildew, strongly enough to be slightly off-putting, but then, that’s why he’d come, to help fix that. Tor set to work rapidly, finding a nice central location for the interior plate and then going outside with the Dowager Countess, which caused an elderly man to come running up carrying weapon. A spear with a corroded metal head on it. He didn’t point the weapon at Tor at least, just stood by panting while the older woman explained.
“We’ve an alligator problem in the swamp here. Originally a wall had been planned around the whole complex, but my Howard died before we got it finished. So, when I go outside, Georges here has to come and protect me, just in case… I’m sorry.” The woman looked saddened by the state of affairs which made Tor feel a little down himself.
Why didn’t Ward take better care of his mother?
It wasn’t like he didn’t have the money, his being the third richest of the counties according to what Rolph had told him. Tor hooked up the plate to a big, very rooty, tree that he was assured wouldn’t be hurt by water, or the nails he used, and went inside to turn the house drier on. The air dried after about fifteen seconds, the field not taking anything off the surfaces inside directly, but once the air dried, so did everything else in short order. That took about half an hour. The house warmed up as the moisture left, something Tor had been ready for, so he put up a half dozen of the temperature control plates around the dwelling and showed Ellen how to use them.
She went white.
“I… can’t afford to pay for those right now. A slight… difficulty in funds, temporary I’m sure, but…” Her head hung a little as she said it, looking ashamed for some reason. Tor just winked at her, waved his hand a little and grinned, trying to put her at ease.
“Pay? Friends don’t pay, Ellen. You know that.” He tried to give her a confident look as if they’d known each other for years, not just met casually once at a party. Still, it was true enough wasn’t it? You didn’t fly across a kingdom to give things to someone not a pal. Practically what friend meant, someone you went out of your way for, right?
“Anyway, I’ll try to get back soon and see about that wall for you, and some other things… Sorry it took so long the first time, I’ll work on doing better… Hey!”
The idea was probably a horrible one, but made him happy to think about anyway. He went to his case and pulled out two full sets of flying gear and shields. He had more, but he’d only seen two people here so far. He presented them with a small smile.
“I didn’t see a lot around here, so traveling places must be tough, right? Learn to use these and it will help a lot with that. Plus, with the shields no giant lizards should hassle you overly, I don’t think. Just remember to use them when you go out. Here…” He showed her how to use it all, going over everything a few times and then working with her until she had it all down. It took a lot longer than he’d planned on spending with her, but she seemed so happy to have the company that he pushed things. If need be he could camp out for the night somewhere, right? It was worth it to see her eyes light up as she lofted about in the air.
“Of course you’ll need to wear trousers when you fly places, or figure something else out. Otherwise you risk flashing the whole world underneath you. Which might serve to make you popular, but won’t earn you much respect.” The words popped out easily, almost teasing, his mother having said them over and over again to his sisters as they’d grown up and she tried to teach them to control where their skirts went. He froze though, realizing that telling a Countess, even an ex-Countess, that, might be considered rude.
She laughed and flitted down to the ground, smoothing her skirt with her hand, “Right you are! I think I have some old things that will do. Thank you I…” Again she looked embarrassed, but happily so this time.
He waved it away again. “Not a problem. I’ll be back in, well, as soon as I can. I don’t know how long it will take to build a proper wall. I actually have the gear with me right now, but it all needs to go to Galasia, so they can rebuild their sewer system.”
“Isn’t that the city you saved?” She asked, her eyes going to his face, which must have looked sad or something, because she looked concerned.
“Not really. I just built a big water filter for them, which isn’t such a big thing. For one, they aren’t saved yet, it’s just a temporary fix… Really though, seriously, they think I’m a cave dwelling troll that Sara Debri made a complicated deal with in order to get the device their using. Honest, she just brought me a letter from her mother, and I did the work, no bargains at all. I didn’t even get paid for it. They have plays about it and everything.” He chuckled as she swallowed hard, her face fighting a grin.
“Actually, for a kids school play it wasn’t too bad. Even I was rooting for Sara by the end of it. Evil Tor troll…” He mock growled the last bit while shaking his fist a little held by his own face, which made Ellen actually laugh out loud.
She invited him to stay the night, but he shook his head a little regretfully.
“Sorry… I’d love to, this is the most fun I’ve had in a long time, but I have to get to Galasia early enough in the day to show them how to use the new gear and then make it back to school before dark, so I can attend all my classes the day after. It’s a grind, but if I miss too many more, they’ll probably kick me out of school and then my parents will have to kill me, which will make them sad, so I can’t have that, can I?”
He flew off waving over his shoulder, about half an hour later, and then headed roughly back towards the school as fast as he could, left hand pushing out nearly as far as it would go. After about five hours he had to land and make camp in some woods at the foot of the white top mountains, there just wasn’t enough light to fly by and Tor didn’t particularly want to risk hitting the ground. He didn’t bother with a fire or anything, just removed some pine boughs from trees using his little cutter and made a bed. He didn’t get cold at all, but did get wet during the night. Clouds had come in, and while the shield kept the impact of the rain off, the wet still soaked him.
In the morning he blinked as the sunlight glinted off the white earth in front of him. Ah! It hadn’t been rain at all, but snow. He hadn’t even realized it was nearly that cold here yet. Good to know that the temperature equalizers worked in the cold too. Well, he’d actually guessed that, from the ice box in the palace that had felt room temperature to him. It was still nice to know. If he had to now, Tor could just live outside like this all the time with no problem. Shield to keep him safe, and warmth all the time too. Now if he could keep the rain and snow off of him… A little shield hut maybe?
He smiled as he took to the air, trunk buzzing along behind him gently. There was a feeling of peace about the whole thing. A calmness as the land slowly passed beneath him.
For the first time on this trip he noticed someone else flying, as he raced through the skies. That was rare. Well, he’d seen it at school a few times, but that had to have the most flyers of anyplace, nearly, and all in a small area. They didn’t get very close, but he waved to them anyway, getting a wave back. It looked like someone wearing what the nobles were calling “flying clothes”, nice silk and leather. From the way the person had bundled up they didn’t have a temperature equalizer at all. That made sense. No one was even selling those yet. Everyone that had one had gotten it from him directly or at least from someone that had.
He got in to Galasia about mid-morning; it had taken him a while to find it actually, since it was kind of just surrounded by forests, though they had two nice rivers near it as well. Apparently the water from those wasn’t fit to drink either? If it was, then why were the people dying of thirst during the sewer problem thing? Couldn’t they have just gone and gotten something to drink there?
Tor slowly landed in the central square, people looking at him and pointing, probably because flying was still rare enough around here and he wasn’t very royal looking. If all you saw flying were huge people with fine clothes, a smaller one in student brown canvas would get some attention. Then he stood for a while, waiting.
This kind of thing was always hard for him, talking to strangers. Tor did well enough in a retulsional setting, but even then he normally let other people do most of the talking. Who should he approach? There were plenty of people around, most of them suddenly looking away. Not wanting to seem pushy or aggressive? Kind of them, if not overly helpful at the moment.
Before he could make up his mind a boy that looked a few years younger than Tor was walked over, waving in a friendly way.
“Hey! How’d you rate flying gear? Even the Baron can’t get any yet I’ve heard. I’d kill to get my hands on some. I’d get you to lend me yours so I could try it, but I’m afraid I’d just fly away and never come back. I don’t want to be bad or anything, but it might be too tempting….” The boy laughed. He was bigger than Tor, by about six inches but looked to be about fifteen or so through the face.
“Hey, sorry, I’m Conrad. Conrad Gala. Yes, related, but far enough away from anything important that I don’t bother with a title at all. Baron twenty-seven or some such, you know how that is?”
Putting out his right hand Tor nodded. “Kind of. I’m Tor. Torrence Baker. I don’t use any titles either really, about the same reason, far enough away that I’m never inheriting anything. Countier some-muckity Lairdgren, I hear. Such a non-thing my mother didn’t even bother to mention it until a few months ago. Anyway, I brought some devices so that the sewer system can be rebuilt faster, I think I should find… Ferdinand Gala? I don’t know that for certain. He’s just the one I met before and we discussed it.” His voice sounded a little sad and shy to his own ear, but the boy just looked a little taken aback.
“Uncle Ferdinand? I can get you there, no problem. Um, need help with the box?”
The follow float on it worked well enough and was easier than carrying it, so Tor explained it and then slowly followed the boy. It would have gone faster, but the kid kept stopping to watch the trunk stop and move when Tor did. It probably did look kind of cool, Tor allowed, but it wasn’t a very quick way to get things done. Luckily it didn’t take too long, because the Baron second was in his office, just off the square. Handy. The building was a nice golden yellow with green trim. Colorful and happy looking, if not very serious seeming. The whole place had a friendly feel that way, under the sadness of the people.
“Hey Uncle Ferdinand… I brought someone to see you. Um, Mr. Baker? He appears to be claiming he’s not actually a troll if you can believe that. I’m still waiting on my decision. His case is floating around behind him, and really, I’m pretty sure anyone that can do that can make me think anything they want, so it could just be a clever disguise.” It was clear the boy was teasing and being playful so Tor stuck his tongue out at him and grinned. Conrad smiled and chuckled a little.
“He’s also a Countier it seems. Lairdgren? We should let Meryl know that, so that when she writes the next play it doesn’t slander him quiet as much. Maybe make him a midget instead of a Troll?” The boy winked.
“Not that your that short, but you understand, by tradition since the plays already malign you a bit, we have to keep on with the theme.”
Tor sighed.
“I didn’t know that was the tradition here. Well, can’t do anything about it now then, can we? I’m probably going to be a troll forever then.”
Conrad grinned large and patted him on the back. He was friendly at least.
“Oh, sure, but that can work for you too. No one with half a brain in their head will ever try and get in a fight with you. “Tor the Troll” just sounds fierce, doesn’t it? Besides, I promise, Meryl didn’t mean anything by it. She just a kid. It seemed like a better story to her and besides, that way she could star in it.”
It made sense to Tor at least. Maybe he could bribe her into being slightly kinder in the next one?
Ferdinand, still looking huge, and wearing a nice jacket over a white shirt came out of his office and did a double take when he saw Tor. Instead of waiting for pleasantries, Tor just jumped in.
“I mentioned excavating gear last time I was here? So I made some and brought it down. It takes a little practice to use, so I thought I’d show you all how to work with it? I can show anyone you want, but I need to be going in a few hours, so I can sleep in my own bed tonight. I don’t mean to rush you all into this…” The Baron second Gala just smiled at him and sent Conrad off to find some people, workmen probably, though some of them had the same last name. Gala.
Tor thought it was a good enough idea. After all, if the city was called “Galasia”, shouldn’t they be helping to fix any major difficulties? It was kind of what ruling meant, wasn’t it?
Inside an hour, ten men were assembled outside with the digging gear on. They made a huge mess at first, spraying dirt over themselves, Tor, and half the people that had come by to watch what was happening in the field off of the main square. A large building was going in anyway, so Tor had them dig out the foundation for practice, following the string lines that had been put in. After they got the hang of it the work was finished in about half an hour. Compared to the weeks, or even months it would have taken to dig a pit that size with shovels, it was amazing. Then he showed them how to use the loose dirt to build hard retaining walls using the second device.
“Obviously, If you want to run water or sewage through a line, you have to harden all four sides of a pit, which means making a top separately then lifting it in place, but it’s still faster than trying to lay that much pipe. It should speed things up a bit at least.”
The tall boy, Conrad bounced in place a little. “Yeah it should, about a thousand times. You should come back and visit us when we have it all done. Should be about what, a month? And that only because we’re slow and incurably lazy…”
The words could have been bitter, but there was good humor behind them. Tor smiled and turned to the trunk again with a shrug. He pulled out three sets of flying gear and shields, handing two to Ferdinand and one to Conrad. “One of those is for the Baron, of course. Send a note to me at school or something when the works done? I’d love to see what you all do. I don’t know how sewage systems work at all.”
As an afterthought he pulled another set out and handed it to Ferdinand.
“For Meryl? It’s a bribe, so that she won’t make me look too bad in her next work? Make sure to tell her that, will you?” He meant it, but for some reason everyone else laughed as if it were a grand joke. The Baron second seemed shocked when Tor didn’t immediately take the flying gear and shield back.
“You’re really just giving these to her? That’s most generous.” The man gave him a look that seemed nearly sly for a moment and then winked.
“She doesn’t have a marriage set up yet. Only thirteen, but in a few years might be interested.”
It was awkward suddenly, but Conrad saved it, holding his flying gear tightly, as if afraid Tor might take it back.
“Hey, no angling on Master Tor yet Uncle Ferdinand. At least let the next play come out first. Maybe it can be about how you tricked Tor into rebuilding the sewer system?” The boy laughed as the man groaned and looked chagrined.
“Well, it could be worse.” He muttered to Tor, a bit desperately.
Before anyone could thank him properly, or run screaming from him, yelling “troll, troll!” Tor got back into the air. It wasn’t too late, so, if he flew fast, he should be able to make it back in time for dinner. That would be good, because all he had left was half stale bread, the sweet rolls having turned into breakfast already.
The flight back was uneventful, a little boring even, but peaceful at the same time. If nothing else he knew that he had some errands out of the way and while it had generated more, that was how life worked, right? He’d just get down to Ellen’s in a few weeks and build that wall for her and Georges. Next time he’d have to take a little bit of food with him. They frowned on students stealing things from the dining hall, but it could be done if you were careful.
Tor felt half starved when he got back to the room, but to his surprise found several boxes and a small barrel resting on his bed. At first he thought that the school might have been kicking him out, or at least getting him to move to another room, so he wouldn’t be near Rolph anymore, but it turned out, when he read the letter with it, that it was a gift from the Morgans’.
Apparently they weren’t in on any snubbing at least.
That was good. He hadn’t spoken with Trice at all about things, being too embarrassed still, but it wasn’t them calling everything off yet, so maybe he should? She hadn’t kept him out of the party after all, Sara either.
Even Rolph was probably clear there. Really, he wouldn’t have done that to him. Ever. If the Prince didn’t want Tor around for something like that, he’d have just mentioned it. Well, that or arranged for some other event to take place at the same time to get him out of the way. Send him off on an errand or something.
Two of the boxes had dried pears, which he tried immediately. They really were good, like candy almost. It was the new drying system, which left them crisp and light, almost melting in the mouth. The other box had dried apple, which was good too, but not as tasty as the pears. Eric had mentioned that, hadn’t he?
In the barrel was a blend of apple and pear that they both hoped he would particularly enjoy. It came with a teasing warning not to let anyone else have any, or it would all be gone before the day was out. It was a large barrel, about five gallons it looked like, with a tap on it, so he set it up on his table. Careful not to make a mess, Tor poured a bit of it into one of the special cups he’d made, and hit the cooling sigil on the side. After about ten seconds the beverage was nearly ice cold, a thin crust frozen on the top even, so he turned the field off and took a slow sip.
It was good. Really good. As cold as it was, he could feel it almost seeping in to his body. Like magic. He could feel the… delicious… with his entire being, as strange as that was. Closing his eyes he savored the flavor, taking small sips instead of the huge gulps his body demanded. “Delicious” had only been a word to him before, now he not only had a flavor, but a feeling to go along with it. He’d have to pen a note to them in thanks as soon as he had funds to send it.
The day, the last weeks really, had worn at him, Tor realized, because he suddenly felt exhausted now that he had the chance to relax a bit, and a sign that not everyone in the world hated him. That part was nice. Slumping into the bare wooden work chair the school provided, he could barely keep his eyes open. Tor would have just lie down and taken a nap, if his stomach hadn’t spasmed painfully. At first it occurred to him that too much dried fruit all at once might be the cause, he’d never encountered that effect before, but Tor had heard about it. Something to do with too much fiber, he thought. Oops. He started to laugh at himself for it, but the pain got really bad. Worse than he’d experienced before. Ever. Including when his leg had been broken and he was left dangling in the air by it. His throat started to close up and breathing came only in painful shallow gasps.
God!
Desperately he worked over to his desk and grabbed the poison detector he normally took with him to meals; he held it over the cup, which lit up brightly.
Right.
They’d poisoned him then.
Why? Who would do this to him? Tor wanted to vomit, even tried to make himself, sticking a finger down his throat, but nothing happened. He fell to the floor still clutching the detector. The last thought he had before everything went dark was a simple one; what kind of moron invents a poison detector and then let himself get poisoned?
If it hadn’t hurt so much, Tor would have said he deserved it.
Torrance came to, lying in his own bed. The boxes and barrel were gone and the woman in the room with him wasn’t anyone he knew, or had even seen before. She looked at him when he stirred a little and came to his bed side. Her clothing was all blue, a dark and heavy looking material, practical and loose, but with trousers and a tunic, not a skirt, so some kind of work clothes?
She brought him water, and without even being asked, the poison detector, which he triggered before even checking the cup. It was clean. He drank as much as he could, which wasn’t much, and then waited. The woman left and didn’t return, but half an hour later the Dean and Kolb came in.
“Hey…kind of a hard way to get some rest, don’t you think?” The big man teased, his voice was light, but his face held a dark, slightly grim look.
Tor nodded. A very hard way to go about it indeed. A stupid way too. Not something he’d be recommending anyone try for themselves.
The Dean looked at him, a hard look that spoke of fear and dread. “We, um, found the cask and the note that went with it. It was clearly poisoned and the hand that wrote the note was consistent. Meaning one person wrote the whole thing. Other than that we don’t know who did what or when. It may be too soon to leap to conclusions. People don’t generally advertise like that if they’re planning to kill you, so it may well be an attempt to guide blame away from the real culprit.”
That was sensible, of course.
Leaping to conclusions never seemed to help anyone, as far as he’d noticed in life. Still, someone had tried to kill him. Again. Why? Who? These things didn’t have answers yet and it was driving him crazy. More to the point, why would anyone bother? It wasn’t like he was special or anything. In the end Tor was just a schoolboy, even if you corrected for the Squire thing and being one of the many “Countier’s Lairdgren”. If someone didn’t want him around, wouldn’t it be easiest to just ignore him and not give him invitations to functions?
He wondered why no one had come to visit him either. Was that a sign of guilt, or were they just being kept out in order to let him rest? He asked the Dean, or tried to at least. His voice wasn’t working at all. It sounded like someone had poured sand down his throat then stomped on it for a while to mix it around. Really it was worse than that.
It seemed to take forever, but he managed to sit up, and immediately wished he hadn’t even tried. Now he threw up, or at least his body went through the motions. Nothing came out, which was almost worse than if something had. He signaled for a pencil and paper, but no one understood what he meant. He pantomimed the action of writing again. Finally, frustrated, he slowly climbed from bed and slumped to the hard chair across the room.
Tor took up his old note pad and wrote carefully, his hand shaking so much it was barely legible.
Where is everyone?
Had they all abandoned him when the King and Connie decided he didn’t belong at palace functions? Or… Tor had nothing after that. A wave of sadness came over him then, so deep that he couldn’t believe that it was possible to feel that low. He was really alone here, wasn’t he? He knew he wasn’t loved by anyone, but he’d thought his friends were, well, his friends.
Kolb went to the door and called out softly, which Tor appreciated. His head felt like the inside of a kettle drum. Not that he knew what that really felt like, but if he imagined it, that feeling would be… this. Hollow, thumping and ringing. Not fun at all.
After only a few seconds Rolph, Trice and Sara all came in, each had their head hanging down like they were guilty of something. They might have been, but Tor doubted it. It was one thing to decide not to be someone’s best buddy, another to try and kill them. No one here had any reason for that at all. Not that he knew of anyway.
Rolph asked for the room, and even though he had an uneasy look on his face, the Dean left. Kolb followed, but stopped at the door.
“I expect my Squire to be alive when I return.” He didn’t say anything else, but the tone conveyed weight. A promise to back the words up if needed. Possibly with violence.
Rolph just nodded as if it was serious.
No one spoke for a time, but both Sara and Trice cried. Finally Tor wrote something for them.
‘You know, if your parents didn’t want us to get married, they could have just sent a note!’
Trice burst out into loud sobs.