The Prince stared hard at Tor for about half a minute, then looked away, staring at the wall for a while. After a bit the much smaller man shrugged and went to the chest that had just been brought in. Popping the top of it he noticed that it wasn’t, as he’d imagined, filled with gold coins or even with amulets like in some kind of fairy story. It was filled, instead, with various kinds of cloth bags.
Some were simple canvass, about the size of his hand, each seeming to have about a dozen gold coins in them. Others were fatter, but held more silver and even some copper coins, the amounts varied in each wildly. One of the nicer bags, a blue silk, a color that would have made a pretty dress for Trice, held nearly a hundred gold coins all on its own. In the upper left hand side of the trunk there was a bag that held plates and amulets. It didn’t look right to him at first, since he knew that he’d given them both more than that over the last months.
It took a second, but he finally got it.
“They kept the flying gear and shields?” His fingers shook as he pointed at the pile of devices. “And the poison detectors?” Tor heard his voice break, crack and pop, both from the damage of nearly dying and because he just sounded like a little kid whose puppy had died.
“Even after all this… they still try and rob me?”
Closing his eyes he took a deep breath, dropping into a deeper mental state than he normally maintained while trying to interact with the world. Those were just things. Junk, he’d heard it called. Let it go, he told himself — several times — inside his head.
Be at peace.
He didn’t open his eyes until his breathing had slowed to something approaching normal and his mind had — cleared was an overly ambitious description — but become something less volatile and potentially violent. A little less.
“Tor… I need you to promise me something.” Rolph’s voice was more serious in that moment than Tor had ever heard it before. Darker. Even when he’d been in a near combat rage he’d sounded happier somehow.
“What would that be?”
“Don’t… don’t kill anyone over this. Not for at least a month. After that, if you have to… promise me you won’t let any innocent people die because of it. Please.” There was clear pleading in the prince’s voice. Simple and raw.
He didn’t answer right away. Sitting on the edge of his bed it felt like he was going to fall through the bottom of the world. It was a place that he didn’t even know could exist, that place so deep inside of him it would have been frightening if Tor could have cared anymore.
The end of everything.
Tor nearly told Rolph that he couldn’t do that, couldn’t promise not to simply kill the whole world in his rage. It was that close. A hair breath away from losing everything and simply taking out all the people that had hurt him, which in that moment, felt like the whole world, even though that really couldn’t be the case. Most people in the world hadn’t even heard of him, and he’d only met a tiny portion of them. The world was big and he was small. People were many and he was just one.
That thought, that he wasn’t that important, that the world didn’t know, or care, about him that much at all, that’s what did it. He felt like he hit the bottom of himself then. But rather than crack into a million pieces, or even rise and start killing everything around him like a spoiled child with too much power breaking all the world’s toys, Tor felt himself sink through it.
It was an odd, gradual feeling. It really felt like the bottom of the universe was passing through him, slipping past him somehow. Then, without warning, the world, the universe itself, opened up inside him.
It was huge. Vast and important. He almost laughed with awe and relief. His problems hadn’t gone away, of course, but he could see how unimportant they really were now. He sighed and opened his eyes.
“Right. Well, I’m not going to hurt anyone over being put down. Not even by someone I kind of loved and thought at least liked me a little as a friend.” He took a deep breath and smiled. It had to be a sad thing, just because the blind rage was gone and he could tell that he wasn’t the center of the universe now, that didn’t change things, did it? It colored it, reshaped it a little, but nothing was shifted yet. If he wanted things to be different, he’d have to make it happen. That was always the same, right? Change started with yourself?
Rolph went white for a second, an actual change of color.
“Um, what?”
“I said that I’m not going to hurt anyone over this. I’m mad and upset, but I won’t let anyone else pay for my hurt feelings. That would be wrong. I agree with you and…” It took him several deep breaths to get the words out.
“And I’m trying to let this all go.” Even though it ached horribly inside.
“Seriously? I mean, that’s great… But you’re going from “how many can I take with me” to “let’s be reasonable” inside ten minutes, that’s…”
Shakily Tor made himself laugh, it nearly came out as a sob. Sitting on the edge of his drab little student’s bed, wearing his old and worn brown clothes he must have been a sight. Right, like little Tor the sap could have ever been a threat to anyone? What Rolph was getting at was clear though.
“Yeah, that’s either insane or a lie most likely. But I just realized how small I am, my life, my existence, not my body. I was just sitting here thinking how much I hurt and what I’d do about it, when I finally got that I’m just not that important. That sounds wrong…”
His hands clawed at the air a little bit as he spoke, trying to scrape words into existence.
“It’s… I’m not less important than anyone else, just that I’m not any more important either. Not when you stand back and see the big picture. Reality is vast compared to our tiny worlds. For me to take anyone else’s life away from them would be wrong, no matter how much I hurt or suffer because of what they do.”
Then the laughter, real laughter, broke through. He laughed until tears came and then he cried for a long time, knowing that it wouldn’t matter how stupid he looked. Rolph would still be his friend at the end of it all. Finally after about twenty minutes he stood up, legs shaking and mind still fuzzy, but clearer than it was before.
“But, right now, I can’t be here. I may not be important or anything, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel this… shame. The embarrassment of all this. I have to leave.”
Tor felt sad about it, but there was no way he was going to brave the looks of revulsion from the others on campus, or, just as bad, pity. Rolph tried to talk him out of it, but eventually had to see that Tor couldn’t stay there any more as well.
Everything was finished.
He repacked the trunks slowly, so that he’d have room for supplies to take with him and so that he could give back Sara’s trunk. A thought occurred to him as he dumped the coins out on the floor to be counted up. There seemed to be an awful lot of them.
“Did… Sara take out her percentage yet?”
“I doubt it. She’s really scared that you’ll just ruin them all Tor, I don’t think she stopped to even consider it. Does it matter though?”
Tor looked at all the gold and silver on the floor and winced a bit. It was more money than he’d ever seen in one place in his life, and he hadn’t even unpacked half the trunk yet.
“I don’t know why they tried to keep the money from me Rolph. I mean, wouldn’t they stand to make a lot more from my stuff if they were just fair and honest with me? Over time I mean? Hell, I’d have given them the money if they’d asked for it. Why do all this? And… why not take what was owed out before sending it along? I… don’t understand at all.” He sounded baffled and sad again. But didn’t let it bother him. If he wasn’t like that for a long while, he’d be surprised.
The Prince plunked down beside him and started dumping out bags of money.
“Well, what Sara told me, before, and don’t get too mad at me, but yes, I knew that the money was being kept back like this, was that she was afraid that you’d just give it all away to people in need or something if you knew about it. With most people that would have been, well, trying to rob them. Sure. But with you it kind of makes sense. You’re generous, to a level that few ever approach at all. I think that idea kind of scares the merchant in Sara’s heart, to tell the truth. And… notice, the gold’s all here. It hasn’t been spent or anything. It doesn’t exactly all add up, but last night Sara did mention that her mother suggested she hold it back, even though she didn’t know you were there, right? So maybe she wasn’t in on… I don’t even know what to call it. Trice isn’t normally like that!”
Meaning what, Tor wondered? That she was being reasonable and that he was just that awful? It was probably true. Mainly at least. Tor finished counting up and then got Rolph to help him figure out how much twelve percent was.
“The deal was for ten percent though, wasn’t it? For everything she sold?”
Tor shrugged.
“Yes, but I’m a moron, remember? I’m sure I don’t know the difference. Besides, this way she can’t claim that I ripped her off later. Not with the Prince and heir, her own boyfriend, doing the counting of the actual coins himself and putting in an extra two percent. I don’t want any mistakes here. I don’t want anyone coming back later and saying I cheated them or acted unfairly.”
After they reloaded Sara’s trunk, Tor asked Rolph if he’d return it for him, so that he could avoid seeing Trice for one thing and so that he could get into town before the shops closed to get supplies and what not. He didn’t know where he was going, but he’d need materials for new projects at the very least. It was kind of all he had left after all, work.
The shop in town where he normally bought his copper pieces was still open and would have been for hours Tor saw when he looked at the clock on the wooden wall beside the window. It wasn’t even noon yet. Tor had gotten so disoriented that time didn’t mean anything, it seemed. That could happen in deep working states he knew. Really, it always happened. Hours melded into each other and lost meaning. This was just worse than normal.
It was tempting to buy everything he’d ever wanted from the place, solid bars of copper, silver and even a few tiny ones of gold to put fields on. He kept his purchases sensible, not because of the gold, which for the first time in his life he had enough of for what he wanted to do, but because of the space. He had room in about half of one of his trunks, if he left almost all the extra devices he made behind. Tor could get an extra piece of luggage, or even just convert and old wooden crate for the purpose, but he didn’t feel like bothering. What should he do with them when he left, he wondered?
Giving them away to people just seemed like it would help validate what Trice had said about him. He didn’t want to stick around to sell them all either. Just leaving them there would mean that someone had to clean up his mess and dump them or find a place to store them out of the way.
Well, he’d deal with that when he got to it. It really wasn’t that important after all. They could just go in the trash bin.
The canvas bag he’d brought to carry the heavy bits of metal and jars of acid in kept slipping slightly in his grasp as he walked. It would have been easier to take the trunk with him and use one of the follow along floats, but he hadn’t thought of that at all. It probably showed how out of it he really was at the moment. Well, he’d get through this. It didn’t feel like it, but nothing in this situation would kill him. For one thing he’d learned to check all his food for poison and walk around with a shield on most of the time.
On his way across the commons Kolb, Karen and Davie Derring came running up. As impossible as it seemed Davie looked to have grown at least another inch since Tor had last seen him. It boggled the mind more than a little. It had only been a few days. The large bald weapons retuletor spoke to him first.
“Tor! We’ve heard some troubling information…”
Great, so everyone knew about it already? Well, that was inevitable, the reason he needed to leave this place now.
“If what you heard is that my engagement with Patricia Morgan is off, and that I’m a moron that’s too short and ugly to live, then your halfway up to date. I’m also leaving — in a few minutes — and in a few days, if the palace actually lets me in for the dinner I’ve been invited too, instead of snubbing me again, I’ll be resigning my Squires position. If not, if they don’t let me in, well, I’m still resigning, they’ll just have to collect the letter from the front gate. The whole thing was just a fiction so I could Marry Trice anyway. No need for it now.” He meant to say it in a friendly manner, and would have settled for a raspy and sad lament, but he sounded like he was going to rip someone’s head off if they tried to stop him.
Like he could.
Kolb froze in place, started to say something, but then didn’t at all, his mouth moving a bit like a fish. It was Karen that spoke, her voice a lot softer than he’d heard it before. She wore the kind of brown silks that a lot of the rich kids did for classes, he’d never seen her in anything but canvas like what he wore, he realized suddenly. Not even at the duel. Of course that had been a fashion statement of its own and a show of support for her brother, who’d dressed like a regular school kid to shame the Count. But yeah, she was one of those rich royal kids too, wasn’t she? For that matter, so was he, royal at least. For all the good that had done him.
“Tor! That’s awful, my god… But no, that’s not it… There’s a fire burning half of County Ross, in the middle of the kingdom? Mainly grass fire, it’s… really bad. A few of the guys wanted to fly over and help fight the fire, but the school won’t let us use the flying rigs or shields, because they don’t belong to the school really, being on loan from you, so we need your permission to take them. I have the one you gave me, and so do Davie, Petra and Kolb, but we need ten others…”
Ah. Tor laughed. Everyone looked at him as if he’d lost his mind, which of course, he had, most likely. Just for a minute there. He grabbed his face with his hands, making the tan bag slip a bit and groaned loudly. A frustrated sounding thing. He was, obviously, a moron. A self important one at that.
“Sorry. I have some other rigs in my room. I’ll just give them to people outright, so this doesn’t happen again. I think I even have enough for everyone plus a few. About fifty. I’m, the disaster isn’t funny, I just… I assumed you were coming to talk to me about other stuff and then…” He kept chuckling. “Sorry. The size of my own ego seems to be the theme of the day. Let’s go get people set up.”
He handed the bag off to Davie without asking, just holding it out to see if he’d take it. Not only did he, the boy carried it without perceptible effort. Tor wondered if that’s how the whole Squire thing actually started originally. Some guy like him not wanting to carry the heavy gear. It worked for now and sped the whole process up a good bit. They got to the room a lot faster than Tor had been walking on his own, the seriousness of the situation hurrying all their steps. He gasped for air at the top of the stairs but didn’t stop, since he had to trigger the door lock himself or it wouldn’t work. All the plates were still on his bed as well as the amulets, so he didn’t even have to search for anything.
“Right. Flying rigs, shields… Um, here, try these,” He handed over a clutch of copper weapons to Davie. “Those are the ones that choke off air.”
Karen gave him a quizzical look and a head tilt, so he shrugged and explained quickly.
“Um, fire needs air. Take the air away from an area and it can’t burn. That’s basically what happens when you throw water on a fire too. I don’t know that it will work fast enough, but it’s worth a shot.”
Tor looked at what was in front of him. Water pumps, yeah, those might help. Temperature equalizers. He didn’t know if it would do much, but just in case he gave them all that he had. Lights? Well, the fire wouldn’t stop at night. It should be bright enough, but what if it wasn’t in the right places? Really they needed so much and he couldn’t tell what might be useful sitting here, or off in Two Bends.
“Um, I don’t know if I can actually help fight a fire or anything right now, but maybe I should go along, in case you need a field made or copied maybe? If, I mean, I won’t just be in the way? I wasn’t doing much anyway…” Tor swallowed, expecting them to all chime in that they didn’t need him. He was barely able to climb the stairs after all, so it was a valid argument as to why he shouldn’t go. Instead Kolb clapped him on the shoulder.
“Good, saves me from having to ask. We’re all staging in the weapons square right now. Davie, run get us a trunk or two so that we can bring all this with us? Might as well take everything we can, no telling what will come in handy.”
Tor loaded up his own trunks, not leaving anything personal behind. He doubted that he’d ever be coming back this way. Sighing he tried to let go of it all. It was sad and he kind of wished he could have finished school, but maybe that had been a stupid dream all along? Would he have been happier if he’d just stayed in Two Bends and been just another baker? Well, life happened, so he had to keep going from where he was at the moment. That was all he could do after all. Even magic wouldn’t change that.
Davie came back with two large trunks, both without flying plates, which only made sense, as no one was making those except him and he’d never sold any. He also brought large young man that filled the doorway as he held the second trunk. At first, in silhouette, it looked like a royal man of about twenty, but when he walked closer and Tor could see his face clearly it was obvious that the boy was even younger than he was, about Davies age of fourteen or so. Face still rounded with baby fat, even though that should have been impossible given how large he was.
The kid must eat like a horse, Tor thought, good thing he was a royal, or his poor parents wouldn’t be able to keep him fed.
They didn’t have time for introductions, as Tor started pointing at things and giving orders, his breathy voice so raspy that he wondered if flying into a fire would be wise for him right now. Then again, if he died… he died. No big loss to the world. Even less to the universe. He kept pointing at things.
“Just use the straps to hold the float plates in place. Normally, if we had time, I’d nail them on, but this will work. I flew to the Capital and back using the same technique once. Just stack the devices in, then the amulets, try to keep them a little bit separate, so that we won’t have to fight to figure out what’s what in the weapons court. Their all metal, so don’t worry about breaking them.”
Everyone worked, even Kolb, who helped get the trunks outside and tapped the plates on each one, then, without warning, lifted off for the weapons section. Everything went with him. Even Davie and Karen lifted off almost instantly, Tor started too, but noticed that the boy that had helped with the trunks just stood, right fist clenched hard enough that it turned white. He looked off at the retreating backs of the flyers, legs locked and stiff as they stood on the stone walkway.
“Um, are you all right?” Tor tried to sound calm and friendly about it, but the kid was kind of scary. At least he had his shield on already. The larger boy shook his head hard; a sharp movement that made Tor nearly wish he hadn’t asked.
“It’s my district, I mean, I’m only Countier sixth, but, it’s my home. I don’t know how to fly though. I was supposed to be up in the rotation to learn next month. I…” Before the boy could start hitting anything Tor started talking.
“Walk with me then. This is a crash course on how to fly. Pay attention, because you aren’t going to have a lot of time to get things wrong.”
It really wasn’t that dangerous Tor told him, but slamming into the ground, even with a shield on, hurt. No one had died yet at least. Tor couldn’t walk and talk very well, and certainly couldn’t jog and talk, so he activated his flying gear and explained while he floated along about five feet from the ground. By the time they got there, one Countier Gary Ross was ready to try flying for the first time.
“Look… some people get scared the first time they fly and some can’t hack it at all, being up high is just too much for them. If you find that happening to you…” Tor turned and gave Gary a grin and a half way credible floating bow.
“Then toughen the hell up. People back home need you, and that counts more than being afraid, right? It counts more than dying even. If you can accept that now, then being afraid, even being terrified to the bone, won’t stop you from doing what you need to.” Tor gave the boy a single nod and went to get him a flying rig.
Not ten minutes later, they took off, Kolb in the front, because he had the map and Tor holding the rear with Gary, so that he could call out suggestions if needed. Also that way they wouldn’t bash into anyone if Gary messed up. They were needed, some flying tips, but the kid was no worse at flying than anyone else had been their first time. Better than a lot really. Way better than Tor. Of course the controls were easier now that he’d fixed them, on turns if nothing else. At least there was no five minutes of spinning in place when Gary tried to turn in the air the first time.
If Gary was afraid he hid it well. His lightly tanned face only showed a steely determination that Tor kind of admired. The look on his own face was probably still just lost and sad, if not close to tears. He thought of Trice for a few seconds and his eyes welled up, liquid dripping down his cheeks and then whipping back as soon as they fell out of the shield, making him glad that Gary was flying along side of him, about a hundred feet away. If he’d been in the back he might have gotten hit.
Tor let those thoughts go. Yes, he could accept that he was short, ugly and that no woman anywhere would be insane enough to love him, or even touch him, unless they were faking interest or being paid to do it. It should have been obvious from the start. He was just a troll after all. Could he even blame her for saying those things? They were all, well most of them, true.
Oh hell yeah he could.
Now that he knew how their royal society thing worked, how people weren’t supposed to make fun of other people if they showed interest in them, how very deeply these ideas were held, and worse, that Trice herself had never said things like that about anyone else, even the old Count that she hadn’t wanted to marry, who she always spoke of in respectful terms, even to her friends… Yes, he could blame her for it. It didn’t make him feel any better, so he dropped into a meditative trance, using flying as his focus. Trying to measure the control of his left hand as perfectly as he could, the residual tremors having been making his flight more than a little shaky so far.
Shaky or not the crew of eighteen people got to the fires before dark. Just because it was close and looked to be the biggest place around by far, they stopped at a walled city. Lines of men and women were surrounding it, digging and sweating as the fire line moved towards them. They landed well back of this line, behind the people that desperately fought, near a clutch of people that stood shouting at each other.
“We can’t hold the line, we need more people, we have to get some water on this thing or we’ll lose the Capital.” The man looked old. Around eighty or so, and had rough workman’s hands which he waved under the nose of a much younger, but still old looking man, who must have been in his forties or so. The second man was huge. Not just big like a royal, but so big that when he spoke things clenched inside Tor in fear.
“How do you suggest we do that? Bucket brigade? We could try working hand pumps out here, but that would take half a week, if we’re lucky. Burying the fires more certain anyway. We just need more people.”
“Da!” Gary yelled running up to the older men. He jumped in front of the giant and gave him a quick hug. “I’ve people from school, all fighters except, well, him… but he’s…”
“Gary! Good to see you boy! We can use all the help we can get. But, um, we aren’t taking children on the fighting line yet. Things are desperate, but we won’t throw lives away.” At first he looked at his son, which Tor thought was a trifle unneeded. The kid was more than big enough to handle a shovel. Then he realized that the man was looking at him too. Great, this crap again, Tor thought.
He had half a mind to tell the giant to go fuck himself and just leave, but instead took a deep breath to calm himself and dropped into an even deeper, calmer mental place. Or tried to anyway.
“Fuck you.” He said, the words just slipping out. Yep, he’d lost it, telling Counts to go do anything was a bad plan in general and really, no one wanted to be cursed at, did they?
“I have magical water pumps, earth moving equipment, and other things you wouldn’t even know to ask for to fight your damn fire. If you don’t want my help then fine, but insult me right now and I will be forced to kick your ass.” Tor stalked over to the man, everyone staring at him like he was crazy, except the old man, who chortled.
“Good! Let’s get the pumps set up and people on anything else you’ve got kid. Don’t mind Scotty here now, he’s just confused as to what needs to be done.”
Tor laughed, if a little weakly and popped the top on the main chest, listing things off as he set them on the ground around the chest. No one anything for a second, then ten, but the old guy started yelling at them.
“Move! Get the gear and figure out how to use it! Basic activation? Can you show us how to use it fast?”
Tor grabbed an earth moving rig first and showed them all how it was done as fast as he could. Right hand pointing at the ground, left hand directing the stream of earth. Then handed it off to Davie to try, giving the giant a dirty look as he did.
Kid indeed.
The water pumps would take a reservoir or river to use, and for best effect people that could fly, so he asked Karen to be in charge of that, since he knew her, and she was used to acting as Kolb’s second in command. At least as far as Tor went. He pointed at the giant that was Gary’s dad, who would be easy to see if nothing else, and told him to get the temperature equalizers to the front line. The people on the ground would need whatever help they could get them, even if it was just to help keep them from getting too hot.
Kolb, who had actual experience with the air stilling devices, owning one himself, headed up that section, Tor hadn’t been sure that it would work, but it was at least as effective as the earth moving devices, which seemed to be getting the job done at about a hundred times faster than a single man with a shovel. They only had twenty of those, and fifteen of the air stilling devices. It would be tight. Yeah, it represented the equal to about three and a half thousand new people coming out, and it really might not be enough, Tor realized. All they could to was fight as hard as possible.
After about twenty minutes, Karen and her team headed into town and had water roaring out in thick streams that they sprayed at the fire from the air. That worked too. Still, even with all that the fire was tenacious. As it got dark, not too long after that, Tor looked at Gary, who stood uneasily, as if he wanted to help fight the fire himself. He should have been. Tor wanted to himself, but given his health knew that would be stupid, but Gary? He had everything needed. Health, strength and courage. These people were underselling him by a lot.
No children on the fire line… Well, there were other things of use to do.
“Gary. We’re going to need light soon. I have some things that will work, but I don’t know how to deploy them. Here, see the controls?” A few seconds of tapping earned a nod from the large kid, which Tor hopped meant he got it.
The boy stood for a minute, eyes closed, then, without saying anything, he took all the light plates, using both hands for them, headed back towards the wall of the city and bobbed over it, flying. Fifteen minutes later groups of men, women and children boiled out, each one holding one of the lights. Ah! Tor never would have thought of that. They could just stand back and light things up, but also move to where it was needed. Brilliant.
It was probably a royal thing, thinking of getting help from other people like that. Tor wouldn’t have at all. He probably would have just stuck the lights to the wall of the County capital, which had a name it turned out. Rossalynd.
Almost no one slept that night, the fire slipping past them again and again, no matter what they did. That wasn’t such a big deal, each time someone would simply use and air choke, or bury the new patch of smoldering grass with dirt, until somehow, the fire jumped the twenty foot wall and got inside the city.
The scene outside the city was surreal, eerie even, smoke blowing across them in silent waves, the fire making a constant roar that sounded a bit like the ocean, but not, all at the same time. People wanted to run in to save the city, but the old man wouldn’t let them. Losing the external fire line lost the city too. Karen, floating in the air above everything turned her pumps spry towards where the first blaze had begun, but it just couldn’t reach. Not even a tenth of the way.
“Got anything in your box of tricks for this boy?” The old man said grimly, his eyes tired. He sounded defeated, like they’d lost already.
Did he? What did he have left? Temperature control plates wouldn’t matter at all, and the fire wasn’t going to be poisoning anyone right now, so that was out. There were some cups that would cool or warm beverages and while a cool drink sounded nice right then, it wouldn’t put a fire out. The only thing he had left were the set of twenty building air dryers he’d put together for Ellen Ward. Making the buildings, or the fire, drier wouldn’t help.
But…
“I think I might. Um, here…”
The dryers weren’t meant to carry a lot of water at once, but they could carry some for a while, sending water to where ever the second plate was for collection. If that was over, near, or on a fire itself… He didn’t know if it would work, but it was worth a shot. Tor told the old man what to say and got him to scream out instructions. Old as he was, his voice carried a lot farther than Tor’s did at the moment. Tor took two of the plates and flew them in, over the city and held them as Karen and one of her friends, Petra he thought, used their pumps to hit the drying portions of the plates directly.
It worked, the loose streams of water that collected in the air hit him hard, like a torrential rain, in two streams each about three foot across. They slapped at him, the water focusing on each hand sized copper plate, making them slippery, and trying to rip them from his still weak grasp. His right hand shook, aching from the strain, the plates trying to push apart, slick water building up between them, but he held on. Just barely, an act of will more than real physical strength, and got the first fire out by just hovering over it for a while. The second one was worse, white hot already if small, so he dropped the plates directly inside of it.
He was soaked of course, but none of the people watching seemed inclined to make fun of him yet. That would probably come later when the school children described him as a midget troll that tried to despoil their young Countier by wetting himself on him or something.
Flying had to be a euphemism for something naughty didn’t it? Everything else was to those freak royals. Tor wanted to growl, memories of Trice coming back again, and what she’d said about him. There wasn’t time for that though, so he forced himself to just pay attention to what was at hand. Trying to save a city.
When the fire went out he got the plates back out of the puddle that had formed which was probably hot still, but thankfully his shield and temperature equalizer took care of that. Then Tor put out the third fire, which was barely even burning. After that one he looked but couldn’t find anything else that seemed to be alight, so, hoping he didn’t run into anything, plates still trying to slip out of his hands, and trailing water the whole time, Tor flew back to the command area and signaled Karen and Petra to stop, and go back to fighting the fire outside the wall. The drenched clothing wasn’t such a big deal, except that his pants were all wet, and of course insisted on drying last, so that he was walking around the next morning looking like he’d peed his pants.
Embarrassing.
The first three times Scotty, the giant man that was Gary’s dad, mentioned it, Tor ignored him. It did look like he’d wet himself after all, and everyone was tired, so the guy was probably trying to get a laugh to boost morale. People did laugh. A lot. Each time it dug into the already fragile parts of himself, pushing at him… making him more and more angry. On the fourth time Tor gave Scotty a level look and asked the man, fairly politely, to knock it off.
“Or what little boy? You’ll kick my ass? Ooh, I’m so scared!” He mugged a little for the exhausted people around them. Right. Tor shook his head slowly and felt his stomach grow cold inside.
A lot of the other people, most of them from the area, had chuckled when the giant said it. Tor could see that. They were his people, plus it had been silly of him to say anything like that in the first place and the guy was probably trying to save face. Really, he probably didn’t even have to, as big as he was. Tor threatening him wouldn’t be taken seriously, by anyone. You didn’t have to prove you were tougher than a kitten, did you? Of course not.
The only problem was that Tor didn’t care at the moment. Not really. He closed his eyes and tried hard to be concerned about anything, but nothing came to him at all. There was just a hole inside that emptied into the bottom of everything.
And a burning anger, which at that second was pointed directly at the giant in front of him.
Jerk.
He held up one finger to the man and triggered his flying gear with a quick tap after a few seconds. Tor raised high into the air and looked around, trying to seem calm about it all, until he found a large field, probably ten square miles in all and nearly that far from Rossalynd, that was burning along merrily. Pulling the blast device he’d built into the poison detector looking bit of metal out of his shirt he aimed, triggering it for about a second.
The world erupted with a blast that probably made the city jump. Literally.
The field of grass stalks was flattened and churned, with a large crater in the center of it when the dust cleared, a giant cloud in the shape of a toadstool over it, growing slowly. Most of the fire was out in the field, and the surrounding area for miles, so at least there was that. Tor landed by the man gently, if not in a smooth looking fashion, and smiled at him. What that looked like Tor didn’t know, young and surly probably, but that would have to do for now, Tor didn’t have anything better to offer.
“Scared yet?” Tor said his voice soft and menacing.
The man froze, not moving, or blinking. Tor really didn’t want a fight, but the guy didn’t seem to want to leave him a lot of choice either. Plus he was too huge to play with. If they fought, Tor would have to kill him. Instantly and without hesitation. Knowing that he switched weapons to one of the smaller explosives and got ready for the giant to move. Time passed slowly, Tor glaring with an insane smile on his lips, trembling slightly and Scott Ross just holding very still.
Kolb came flying in at nearly full speed and noticed the little situation lining up, beneath him. It was the old man that came walking over first however, looking calm and relaxed about the whole thing.
“I see you got the fire out in the south section outside of the city? Bit extreme, but it’s good to know we have a back up if we start to lose the line. Try not to use that too close to the city again though, eh? I don’t want to leave cracks in the wall. Just got it the way I like, about fifteen years ago.”
Smiling Tor put the little device away, tucking the small copper rectangle away under his first, the hemp cord it was on itching for half a second while it moved.
“Sorry about that. I’m just… Well, it’s been a rough couple of days. My engagement had to be broken off and some harsh words were said. I’m sure that this guy, sorry… don’t know your name,” he pointed at the giant man with one finger, not carrying that it was rude. It was that or the explosive in his other hand. But then, hey, that one was already pointed, wasn’t it?
“Didn’t mean to be insulting when we flew in, but my, er, lack of being tall, was mentioned prominently as well as looking a bit young as that situation blew up, in public. So I over reacted. Then when he tried acting tough with me, well, I’m kind of at my limit, you know?” Tor stared at the man, letting his expression go blank. “If you want to die, I can arrange it easily enough. Right now, if you move on me, you’ll just die. If you call in an army, they die with you. Do you get what I’m saying here? I really don’t care right now one way or the other myself, but I promised my best friend that I wouldn’t kill any innocent people just because I’m ticked off. I’m pretty sure that goes away if I’m attacked though, and right now my personal definition of “attack” is pretty loose I think. So, you know, it’s your choice. I came to help you fight this fire though, not argue like twelve year olds over who has the biggest manhood.” Tor waved his left hand not smiling.
“I’ll cede that one to you if it’s that important, but keep pushing me, and I will end you. If you think I can’t because I look too young or small to be a threat, then go ahead and try something, because it probably means you’re too stupid to live anyway.”
The giant man stormed off, probably to go get some weapons. Tor shrugged. He really just couldn’t care right now at all. He’d explained himself, even if he had been a bit of a prick about it. But these people had to learn that he wasn’t a child and wasn’t going to put up with insults about it anymore.
Kolb landed near him and walked over slowly.
“Say, Tor… What exactly is that thing you used? It’s rather… effective.”
Oh, right. Tor got it out and showed him. “I made it the other night. Just in case I have to fight, you know an army or two… It’s just an explosive. Like the one I gave you only larger in power and size of effected area. It has continuous activation too, but I didn’t think that would be needed right now, so I just tapped it once.”
Huge shoulders slumping a little the bald man glanced at Tor with a slightly wry expression. Then, for the first time Tor could ever remember, the Knight sighed at him.
“So, are you really sure that you want to start a fight with a Count’s heir? It’s clear you could take out his forces, but is that really a good idea? I know that things haven’t been going well for you lately, but I can’t see how that would really help anything. It’s a lot of people to kill just because you don’t feel happy in the moment.”
“What?” Tor let his voice sound shocked. “He’s a Count’s heir? I thought he was the Count! Well, that changes everything. I was being nice because of that you know. After all, Gary said he’s a Countier sixth, so it’s not like they need this one for anything, right? Lots of spares.” Tor waved his hand in the air just a little, moving the tiny device around with it. Then he shook his head and sighed and put all his weapons away. No need for him to make things worse, not really.
He felt like doing it though. Like killing the giant moron would make him feel better. Take some of the pain away. Pain didn’t work that way though. Even Tor could see that.
“I’m just kidding. I’m sure that we can let this go now. It was just tempers flaring due to stress. Since we all know what the situation is, I don’t think we have to continue on with it.”
The old man next to him winked and moved to pat him on the back.
“That’s using your head now. Figured you for a smart one, thinking to bring in all that gear with you. We’d be trying to hold an evacuation route instead of people sleeping cozy in their own beds and complaining about the smoke and frightening noises right now without it. Still, we aren’t out of danger yet. This may be the largest city in County Ross, but we have a lot more to deal with if we’re not going to lose thousands of lives to this thing.”
That, Tor knew, was true, he’d gone up and seen it in the air himself several times. It all looked smaller from up there, but the bright lines of the fire were clear, day or night. Worse, the farther they got from the city, the harder it would be to fight. The pumps wouldn’t reach that far, built short so that they could never get out of control or be able to cross back on themselves.
He could lengthen that of course. Tor had run a river three hundred miles once through the air, he could build something smaller that would go out ten or so, if he could get the time to work, and a place to do it. He didn’t know if he could manage here. It was noisy and he really couldn’t relax, thinking that a giant and angry man might sneak up on him, and say, kick him in the head, as he worked? He couldn’t build the field while wearing a shield either. It was a quandary.
Finally he decided to just do it. If Scotty the giant wanted to kill him, then it wouldn’t work, but otherwise it needed to be done. Tor wished he could sleep first, but that wasn’t happening, he knew. This was too important for him to nap. Without preamble or preparation, Tor plunked down on a bare patch of dirt, took two plates, and started building. No one bothered him that he could tell, even though it took at least a full day before the work was ready. Someone had given him sips of water while he worked, but other than that, nothing.
He didn’t test first, the field needed to be copied too badly for that. It just had to be right, that was all. In two hours he called over Karen, who looked exhausted, and explained the new devices to her. Two hours later he had another ten ready to go.
Then he kept building until everyone that could fly out had one. The number of flying people had grown somehow, but Tor didn’t ask about how. The devices were his job, deploying them he had to leave to someone else. He figured that someone had just grabbed the rigs from his gear and handed them out, probably along with lessons. If so… Then fine. Technically it was illegal for anyone not a member of royalty to have a shield and the flying gear was nearly as closely guarded, but he could give them away. Really to anyone he wanted. The idea was that if Tor felt strongly enough about it to not sell the things for thousands of golds, then it was probably important.
These devices hadn’t been given out by his own hand maybe, but he’d back it, if anyone asked. It was, oddly enough, late in the day when he finally stopped working, his eyes wouldn’t focus right, but he’d encountered that before after long work sessions. He also had a bad headache that made him want to throw up. Not a big deal. Builders got those if they pushed too hard and having just come off of being poisoned, not even being recovered fully, not even by half, he should have expected it. It would go away in a day or two. Most likely. It could last longer. A week. Not more than that. Hopefully.
A sleeping area had been set up near the wall, it was light out still, which always made it hard for him, but he decided to just rest his eyes for a while. He flipped his shield on just in case. Enough attempts on your life and you start learning to be cautious, that or you died.
Tor felt his eyes shut as he settled on the bare ground, not having a blanket or anything like that with him. It didn’t matter. He slept anyway. Once he woke up with dirt in his mouth, which shouldn’t have been possible, not through a shield, but that didn’t bother him too much, he was just so tired that he spat a few times and laid his head on his arm and went back to sleep. He’d gone to bed while it was light out and didn’t wake up until the morning, as a light spray of water hit him. Opening his right eye he saw the sky above him, a dark and even gray color.
That would be good, he thought. Rain would, as long as it wasn’t coming with lighting, help a lot. If it was hard enough it might even take care of the worst of the fire for them. The part that hadn’t already burned out. Luckily the harvest season had already passed, so that they didn’t have to contend with the loss of all their crops. Otherwise the grains they harvested for the kingdom would have gone up already. That would be bad. Even in Two Bends most of the flour was made of grains from Ross. All they really had to deal with now was the damage and the remaining fires. Rain away sky, Tor thought, hoping it would be enough to make a difference.
He got up and rubbed at his face, the black of his beard stubble must have looked a sight. He could, at least theoretically, grow a beard. It might even make him look less like a little kid if he did that. He never had, but he did have to shave every day and had for years. It was an idea at least. Not shaving was easier even.
After he got up and used the facilities someone had partitioned off about twenty yards from the wall, Tor got some water and drank until he didn’t want any more, then asked the first person he saw that kind of looked familiar, a big man who wore student browns that Tor was almost certain had clobbered him in practice at least a few times, a question.
What day it was.
It was hard to keep track of things while working sometimes. He thought it was Monday morning, but the guy was adamant that it was Tuesday already.
Argh.
Well, Tor had things to do, at least if nothing here needed him for the time being. The rain made that unlikely, nature easily trumping any work Tor could manage. So he should at least try to make his appointment with the King and Queen. Not that he really cared. Being sent away from the palace again didn’t really thrill him as an ideal plan for the day.
Still he shaved and scrubbed up in a bucket of cold water. Halfway through he laughed and went to get one of the bathtub water heaters. Then the bucket steamed slightly as he washed up. Other people were looking at him enviously and muttered about special perks, so after he finished he broke out the other water heaters and set them out near the wash bucket line. Using some bits of rope he found, hard brown stuff that barely qualified as twine, he hooked up all the buckets so everyone could have warm, or even hot, water to wash with if they wanted.
That done standing out in the rain shirtless and not getting any drier, but not cold either, thanks to the equalizing field he’d just put back on along with all the others, he dressed and went to find Kolb.
“Right, so, off to the palace. If they let me in, I’m going to resign still, if they don’t, well, then I’ll resign with cause. Getting real tired of all this stuff, you know? Anyway… Um, which way is the Capital from here do you think?”
It took a while for him to get all the equipment, now that the fire was largely handled. Tor noticed that not even half of what he’d lent out had come back yet. No big thing, it was almost dumped a few days before anyway, but he didn’t want people to think he was a pushover. Smiling a little, he told the old guy that any other gear that came in they could just toss in a box for him and for anything that was missing they could just toss fair market value in gold into the same box. Tor didn’t think that it would be a hardship for them overly. It was just incentive to not rip him off after all. If they returned the gear, they didn’t have to spend anything at all on it. Well, the cost of sending it to him, but that wasn’t a big deal, all things considered, they could send it slow post and it would only cost about four silvers.
Some of it was, clearly, still out being used to fight the fire. The new pumps for instance were all mainly out still and should be. The flying gear and shields for the people doing that where there’s now. The rest that he didn’t have, well, if someone wanted anything of his that badly, they could get off their butts and come ask him for it themselves. He didn’t really need it all, but it was the principle of the thing.
He shrugged, because this kind of led to another problem, didn’t it?
“I don’t really have an address. I…” For a moment he came up blank. There was always his family though. That would have to do.
“If you could send it to Two Bends, County Lairdgren, addressed to Tor? That should get it to the right place, eventually.”
The gardener looking fellow said that he’d see what he could do. He didn’t seem displeased by what Tor had said, so maybe something would actually happen. Probably not, but hey, life was too short to waste worrying over things he could make more of in a few days worth of work.
By eleven in the morning he was in the air and flying towards the Capital fast, but with a deep sense of dread. Now, if he could just “accidentally” take a wrong turn he wouldn’t have to deal with even more people that hated him and thought he wasn’t good enough. The very idea almost made him just turn around and fly back to the remaining bits of fire. It took all his will to keep flying straight on in the direction he was told to go.
At least this time he had some funds with him if he needed it.