The name, face, and apparently sticky fingers, of Swarley Jones were well known in the area. He tried to break free and run when the guard came, getting a clout to the side of the head for his trouble from the velvet clad merchant who really didn't want him to get away. Almost as if it were personal. The guard, a man of about eighteen was one of the young men that had given them directions a few days before. He shook the boys arm roughly.
“Swarley! How many times… What did he grab this time, a pair of shoes or tub of toothpaste?” the guard glared at the boy menacingly.
Clark answered, subdued and as if he were ashamed of something.
“No Kyle… It's, well… a bit more serious than that this time, I'm afraid.” He honestly sounded worried too.
The story unfolded quickly, and most of the people around him knew it already. Swarley Jones was a local boy who's father died at sea in a squall, which Tor learned meant a sudden storm, and who's mother hadn't lasted a year past that. Dying of grief they said. Swarley allowed that the constant drinking hadn't helped either.
Since then, nearly six months past, the boy had lived how he could, stealing food and sundries, clothes and whatnot, when he couldn't convince some sailor to part with a few coppers for servicing them sexually. Tor almost blanched at that, but the boy was old enough, fourteen, and selling himself was considered honest work here. No one even blinked that he mainly serviced men. That's who the clients were after all.
After about ten minutes of talking about what to do, Kyle the guard, pulled the boy from the shop, less angry now and more sad. Tor followed, which got Petra and Trice to come out behind him while the shop keeps went back to work. They were making a lot suddenly after all and an attempted theft wouldn't keep them from working for long. So was Tor, he realized.
That was good, but this kind of event on their first day didn't bode well. It wasn't his business, except that the boy was probably off to jail for this, or a beating… or worse, depending on what the penalty was for such theft.
That was why Tor could never be a judge he knew, or a guardsman. He'd seen the kid steal with his own eyes, right in front of him, with no hint of doubt or mistake being possible, and still, standing here, he thought the penalties all sounded far too harsh, even when what was stolen took money from his own pocket. What the hell was he supposed to do?
It turned out that he didn't have to do much at all. The four guards stopped outside and started talking about the case amongst themselves. It was clear that they all had a soft spot for the boy, or at least didn't want to see him put to death for grand theft, hanging being the traditional penalty for such. Since it was so local, both the Captain of the guard and the Countess herself would be called upon. Normally that wouldn't happen, but they only had a few capital cases per year, so Holly had taken to reviewing them to assure true justice was done, and that the law didn't become blind.
The stone street looked a little uneven suddenly, dirtier than it had been before, darker in color. Was it just dusk? Or just his own foreboding due to the events? No… Clouds had come in suddenly, almost black and full of rain, off in the darkened sky over the ocean the world suddenly got light for a moment, lighting flashed and people scurried out of the shops to look at the sky. The baker closed his shutter and hurried out fast enough that Tor doubted everything was put away properly, it took time to close a bake shop well.
“Storm coming!” Petra, who was from a similar area, looked at the sky closely. “A big one. We need to get inside… I… You — guards — come with us and bring the boy.” She said suddenly, her voice commanding and firm. The men didn't even argue with her.
Tor nearly laughed, because if he told them he was there to save their lives and they should come along with him, they probably would have hit the strange little man or called him names at the very least.
It didn't hurt that they went right up to the side door of Holly's house, with the two obviously noble women leading. Petra didn't knock, just walked in and started hollering for Holly. The instant the Countess came into view, along with Kolb, fast, like they'd been waiting for them in the other room, the tall girl started saying there was a storm and an “issue”. The storm came first, meaning it was a bigger deal than anything Tor had ever experienced. A little rain, even a hard one, shouldn't get people that worked up. Lightning could mean fire, but a lot of stuff here was made of stone. The real worries seemed to be about flooding from the ocean and wind damage.
“Tor your new house!” Holly said, horrified suddenly. “It's right on the beach, it'll be destroyed or flooded…”
Tor shrugged.
“I'll go take it down then. Not a problem. That's what it's built to do after all. Be right back.”
It took longer than being “right back” but not much and that only because he had to make two trips to carry all his stuff. The stone pots and dishware made the heaviest run. Loaded in his trunk he was able to fly with everything in two small hops though. He was busy dragging everything into the main house for about ten minutes, and it wouldn't have taken half that if he'd had more trunks ready to go. As inappropriate as it was, an idea for floating trunks popped into his head. Ones made of magic, like the houses were. He set it aside thought, not having time at the moment.
Then they all ran room to room closing shutters, this was such a big deal that even the guards helped. Swarley offered, but no one wanted to give him the chance to escape.
Except Tor, but if this storm was that big a deal he didn't want to cast the kid out into it alone either. There were big wooden sheets to go over the outside of the windows too, but Holly feared they didn't have time. The wind was picking up, but they had flying gear to hit the upper levels he reminded her. Shields too, so it was even safe. They didn't need to dig out ladders or anything. It took an hour to get all sixteen of the large second and third level windows covered with the light brown wood, but it was finished just before the hard rain started.
It came down in buckets, the air almost turning a blue-gray as the wet and cold slapped them hard. Not a stinging rain, but not something he'd want to be camping out in either.
Back inside Tor took a clothes drying amulet and had everyone go to what was called the damp room. A drab stone space with a dull black metal drain in the middle of the floor. He crowded them all in and hit the sigil, just holding the device in his hand. In about ten seconds the water splashed from their clothing. Half of it worked into other people, but by moving around carefully they were all dry in six repetitions, which took about a minute. It would have worked better if the space was larger, but this was better than being wet for hours. It wasn't until after they all left the room, the guards, Holly and her servants all amazed, the others less so, that Tor realized he could have sent people in a few at a time and saved a couple of repetitions. Plus it would have looked more effective, each person needing only one cycle to get dry. Well oops.
The wind howled already, but Tor figured that would pass in about an hour, like the storms at home, when they came. Holly grinned at him and winked.
“Hardly. These can last up to ten hours and have winds of over one-eighty. We'll be fine in here, but as soon as it breaks we'll need to get on search and rescue most likely. The alarm didn't sound, but that doesn't mean much I'm afraid, something like this will take a toll no matter the warning level. We're cooking food up ahead of time now and moving everyone into the main dwelling for the night at least. We might as well all get comfortable. Traditionally we sit around and tell stories to ease people’s minds, but I guess we better deal with this little legal situation first… as much as I'd rather avoid it.” Her voice went very sour, making the boy, who was dressed in pretty ragged short pants and a shirt that had once been white or at least light tan but now was closer to gray, cringe away from her as if she was threatening a beating.
Of course a thrashing was the least of his worries.
Tor only spoke once, when asked, since he'd actually witnessed the crime. Mentioning only exactly what he saw. It was enough to have the kid convicted. Normally it wouldn't even be a matter of justice being called into question, everyone agreed. Even Swarley told the Countess, quite politely, as he blushed and looked down that he already knew he was done for.
“It was wrong. I know that. I knew it when I done it, so no use claiming it was a mistake now. I'd call for me head too, fair enough. Still, at least I won't drown out in the storm, which I probably wouldn't have lived through anyway and I won't have to worry about being hungry anymore or wonder if I can convince some sailor that bunging my back hole is just as good as getting a girl whore in town at half the price. Just as well. I'm ready, I guess. Freaking world’s been out to get me for too long, I don't care anymore rightly.” He brushed his over long hair out of the way, a light brown mop that fell past his shoulders in the back.
Normally they could just let him swing the next day or so and call it good.
But if Swarley swung for filching one little device of Tor's, that made his letting Holly off a joke, didn't it? Tor just crossed his arms and stared at her, hard, a blank look on his face, making her look away before speaking. At least she got the idea and didn't try to kill the kid right then. Instead she decided to let him keep the light and repay Tor and the shop keepers with work, which was not to take longer than ten years or less than five. It also couldn't happen in Printer. Basically an exile. Looking directly at the boy she spoke sternly as she explained.
“Theft at this level is a serious crime Mr. Jones. If this happened a month ago, you'd be dead right now. It is only through the grace of Master Tor, who is far kinder than I think you know, that your life is being spared. You'll work at whatever task we see fit, until such time that the value of the light you took, fair market value, is repaid in full. Now we have to decide what to actually do with you that won't seem too much like a reward.”
Tor thought they should just put him in school, but everyone else figured that would be a little too pleasurable and might lead to others following suit on the chance of the same “punishment”. Tor didn't know, a poor boy without resources at Lairdgren was in for a hard time, but apparently it was the appearance of it being unpleasant that they were looking for. Trice smiled wickedly.
“Oohh! I know. Tor owns a whorehouse. Ursala and Madam Clarissa have been talking about adding in some boy whores, so Swarley would fit. The clients are all military, and nice enough, so you won't be abused or anything, probably have to work in the kitchens or building factory part time, because most of the men prefer women. But… well, when I was there we got paid for kitchen work too at least. I don't know if that still stands though. It's your house Tor…”
What? It wasn't his, even though everyone else was nodding at him like he controlled things there. Finally Tor looked at the boy and shrugged.
“No.” He said simply, shaking his head, “We'll teach him to fly and he can run errands for the palace or the military, that or get him a job with Two Bends fast delivery. I'll outfit him and if he runs off, well, that would be insanely stupid. Making him slave for the Troll of Galasia should be enough to keep people happy right? I won't even cut his hand off. I promise.” Tor turned to the boy and smiled winningly. “The last person I had a real problem with lost a hand over it. Don't make me do that again. Please.”
It wasn't much of a threat, but Tor didn't want the kid to think he could just steal and go unpunished either. Then he'd never learn, would he?
Swarley glanced at Trice.
“You ma'am?” Fear dripped from his voice and he shrunk into himself.
A little evil she chuckled, shook her head and then told the absolute truth, though in a way that sounded horrible, even to Tor.
“No, this was something different, a fight with assassins that tried to kill a bunch of people. No, Tor crippled the minister of the military because the man was angry that Tor had beaten up about six hundred soldiers. At once.” She said it in her slightly teasing fashion, but Kolb corrected her anyway, being a stickler for accuracy when it came to fighting.
“Closer to five hundred. Just slightly over, and he actually only engaged slightly over four hundred at any one time. A few wisely stood out of the way I believe. Not that I want to promote cowardice, but given how outmatched they were, they should have all run. It doesn’t serve to stand to battle when you can’t win. At least if it isn’t aiding someone else at the time.” That's all he said. There was no inflection in the tone or smile to soften it. Just a statement of a fact.
Tor winced, just a little. It made him sound like a bully or something. Swarley swallowed and asked if that whorehouse position was still open, getting a laugh from everyone. Except Tor. He didn't laugh at all, worried about what to do with the extra burden of the boy.
Holly stood and bowed to Tor.
“No, you are to serve as Master Builder Tor has said, running messages for the palace or military and doing whatever else you're told, until such time that your efforts match the full value of what was stolen. You may keep the light, which I suggest you sell to the highest bidder, so that your debt will be repaid faster. It is so ruled. Swarley Jones, for the next five years at least, you belong to Master Tor.” Her face went pale. “Tor… try not to be too good to him. At least not here where anyone can see. We need to make an example of him or everyone will be doing it.”
Like they'd made of her? Tor wanted to say it, but he didn't. She got it, her face said so, if not her words, and his rubbing it in wouldn't help at all. So what could he do? Well for the time being… Treat him like a Squire? Keep him running errands non-stop? The boy would probably just run off, but if he didn't… well, in a year or so maybe sooner, they could change his name and put him in Lairdgren far away from the city of Printer. Then Tor had an idea.
“Kolb… Would you see to his training for me? I’ll pay for it. Say a hundred and four gold per year?” It was exactly what the members of the secret army made. Tor didn’t have to hint further, the large man just nodding after a few seconds.
“That could work. I’ll test him first and set him to running those errands when he’s not training. Then put him with the Two Bends Delivery service, if that plays out. Useful skill, knowing where places are. I might have a couple other kids that would take well to that work, if there are positions available.”
Tor smiled and nodded a bit. That would work and no one would think that Kolb would be “Too nice” would they? Holly went blank, but didn’t say anything about his paying Kolb more than a year of school would cost as an apprentice fee. She didn’t even mention it was more than the light would cost.
When Tor finalized the arrangements with the weapons master, Kyle, the head guard, started crying. Not loud and nothing that everyone saw in the dim light of the room. Tor noticed it, but decided to ignore it, though he wondered if he'd done something wrong. Holly just told him it was up to him. She didn't say anything more. She didn’t seem happy though.
That done, the wind still picking up everyone waited for a while, since it was hours until dinner would normally be served. It was boring, since no one wanted to waste their stories until after the meal, which made sense to him. Did he have any stories to tell?
Not really, he was kind of boring really, Tor knew. All building and work most of the time. As the wind began to howl and the roof shudder and moan a bit under the whistling sound, thunder parting the night after the sudden jolt that preceded it, Tor realized that the feeling of the field was familiar… Like when the Larval assassin had attacked him.
“Hey, does anyone know, is lightning electricity?” This got a laugh from half the people in the room. Swarley didn't laugh at him, but the poor kid was probably wondering how big his member was, and if he liked to use lubricant or not. Since it was a moot point, and the kid would learn that soon on his own, Tor didn't bother with the idea. A year ago he hadn't even known that would be physically possible. The idea left him feeling a little ill. But different places, different customs.
It turned out that almost everyone in the room knew a lot more about electrics than he did, even though they weren't used in Noram as a rule. Unless produced by magic. That got Tor's attention. He knew other places did things differently, but he hadn't heard about rules about it. Trice and Petra went into depth about the basics of electricity even describing how it moved, positive and negative poles… Half of what they said just went over his head for the time being, but closing his eyes he felt the lightning and tracked it, then tried to feel the field behind it. It was hard at first, until he realized it was like light in a way.
Hesitating he spoke slowly, hoping everyone wouldn't laugh this time.
“So… if directed to do so, it can go into the ground and even wants to, sort of?” Opening his eyes he looked around, and found that Petra was nodding at least. She seemed to know the most about the subject for some reason.
Closing his eyes to consider the situation it became clear that it wasn't even something hard to do. Like light, it was a field at the base level, so as long as he gave it clear instructions, it should do what he said. Duh. As lighting crashed in that moment, Tor wondered if banging his head into the table would make him any dumber. No, that probably couldn't happen, being the moron that he already was. It was all so obvious, once someone pointed it out to him. He could direct light, and had, the sigils on the new pieces for instance. Even creating it for a time. So, if he formed a ball in the air that told electricity to go inward instead of casting out or into the ground and filled it with a general field of the stuff…
It took half an hour of deep concentration, which wasn't bad for a brand new field at all. It came into being clearly with a small pop that got everyone’s attention. Tor opened his eyes but kept his focus as pure as possible. Simple enough now. No harder than making a cutter in the air at least. He was deep, but could see by the light of the blue glow in front of him. It wasn't as bright as a light would be, and only about as big around as his own head. Everyone scurried back from it suddenly, even though it only looked like a pale glow.
“Tor! What is that?” Trice asked, trying to keep her voice gentle, even though it sounded a little scared. He smiled.
“Lightning. Contained lightning. I can shield against it now. I figured it out. Thanks to your help everyone.” Closing his eyes he let the energy inside the control field dissipate first, then let the rest of it go. He was, somehow, learning. Get rid of the dangerous stuff first. Right. Now he could add it to his shield and protect against light too. Maybe next time Smythe attacked him he wouldn't be left blind. Everyone sat around staring.
“What? I know I don't have any interesting stories, so I made some lightning. That's cool, right? I mean it’s a real novelty and everything.” He tried to sound humorous about it, but knew that wasn't his real reason for doing it. No, he'd been trying to move past boredom. That was the real point. Probably not a good one, but there it was. Tor knew that people did a lot of things to try and not be bored.
Swarley still looked scared, even more so now than before. Even to the point of looking pale. Then again, maybe he was just hungry? Tor had been on short rations himself, so tried to work the idea of an early meal around. Everyone ignored him on the point, so he let it go, hoping it hadn't been rude.
Still, his stomach was growling and he knew that the larger people ate more than he did when they could, so they had to be hungry too. To keep from being too bored he asked what kind of things they might need for search and rescue the next day. This got a shrug and a list of things he didn't have anything ready for.
Water he could do, sure. He had pumps that cleared water ready to go in his trunk, and could make cisterns out of stone or soil. Food? Why would they even need it? Didn't people already have food? Damage to buildings? Well, he could make digging equipment he supposed, and concentrators, if that would do. Temporary housing for the displaced? That one he was all over.
Petra smiled at him and shrugged.
“Healing too, medicine and first aid. There will be injured. Trees collapse on roofs, that sort of thing, buildings collapse. I once saw a man that was run clear through with a palm tree.” She held up her right hand to stop anyone from speaking. “I know it's not possible, I still saw it. That was gruesome.”
Through dinner, which they ate by lamp light for some reason Tor didn't get, he planned what he needed to do. He needed more working materials, but stone would work. Could he go out and get some safely? Really he didn't think so, not from the sound of the wind out there and the pounding and crashing coming from the beach. Shield or not he could still drown. Maybe he could collect something around the place there… They needed more of nearly everything, as well as something to help people heal… God. He didn't have enough time. Did he? He knew that fields could be built faster if he went deep enough, but if he went too deep it was hard to come back.
The one time he'd tried it he almost hadn't come back at all. But… If he set the time to come back as being triggered by the field being strong enough? It was risky. Still, if he could master that, he'd be on his way to being a real master, not just some guy that people said that about to be polite to.
The wind freaked out then and got really loud, so much that people were yelling to be heard. Not at the top of their lungs maybe, but close enough. Tor had an idea, but needed at least a template piece to do the initial work on. It could be anything, since he doubted he could really check the sigils, the indicator marks he used to remind himself what to do next. Not working as deeply as he intended too. This time he had to form the idea and commit to it fully.
It was a risk all around, but, well, he healed, right? All the time. Could he figure out what that felt like and just accelerate it? Everyone should do it about the same way really, shouldn't they? And this wouldn't be specific, just push a body to do more in the moment, so that the person could survive long term.
Right. If it didn't kill them instantly, that would work.
Well, could he just remind a person as to what their individual pattern was supposed to be using a limited feedback window? Tor really didn't know for certain. For one thing he was pretty sure he'd just made that term up. The idea was solid though, he just needed some help…
When dinner was over he looked around at the material available. He could work as the baseline for a male, being healthy enough right now, recovered from having been poisoned, and not damaged overly, bad mood aside. That part could be left out anyway for now, mood and all that. It would be a good idea for later though. Trice was injured, and pretty badly he realized when he touched her field from across the room, so was Varley… Tor blushed.
Well, that wasn't exactly sick was it?
Last he heard, being pregnant was normal enough. God, well, that told him a lot didn't it? She wasn't forbidden from having sex, but should have at least not let herself get pregnant. Oh well, he could deal with that later. Or not. Whatever. Emergency situation now, he had to remind himself of that, feeling distracted. It wasn't just a few weeks pregnant either, he didn't think, about three months? Had that been why she hadn't wanted to go swimming? Afraid it would show? That came later though, didn't it? When she was pregnant, his mother never showed till nearly five months or so. Then in Two Bends everyone stayed pretty well clothed all the time, so maybe it was a real issue?
Petra was fine, healthy and strong. Holly was still ill, the poison having taken a huge toll on her system. Tor could relate. Walking over to Petra he asked if she would meet him in his room later.
“In fact, could you sleep with me tonight?” It sounded innocent to his ears when he said it, but almost immediately he blushed. It could be taken the wrong way. She nodded though and smiled.
“I'll meet you there. In about half an hour?”
Well, Tor had an awful thought that she might be disappointed in him when she found out what he really wanted. Then again, if he hurried… No. That wouldn't work, there just wasn't enough time. It wasn't fair, but it was true. Even if he could somehow finish this faster than anything he'd ever done, they'd probably all have to leave as soon as it was daylight. Laughing it occurred to him that she probably just assumed he was afraid of the storm like a little kid. It was sometimes hard for royals to remember that he wasn't way younger than his actual years.
Still half an hour…
That meant he had time to get some work done.
He isolated his own field and pulled out the parts responsible for his basic form, that of his limbs, organs and shape. Leave out size, he reminded himself. One size fits all. It had too. Just the most basic stuff. Then he added in the feeling of healing, and increasing the speed of that. It wasn't enough he knew, but he held that much already when he heard a knock on the thick oak door, pale gray with age, or some treatment he didn't know about. Tor walked over as if in a dream and opened it.
Petra stood, wearing a lovely gown that wasn't shear and didn't hug her tightly, but hinted nicely at what might be underneath. Not silk, but something that shone a little even in the dim light of the room. After she stepped in, her feet bare, she turned away and let it drop, looking at him sweetly over her shoulder. A robe then, not a night dress? She wore nothing but a smile then. Not thinking about anything but gathering information about her, he felt his body move with her towards the bed. It wasn't rushed and for the most part he ignored it, focusing on her deeply. Almost not aware that he moved at all. On what made her a woman, what that meant field wise… It was fascinating.
He was kissing her, and apparently doing a good enough job of it, laying next to her, naked now. Tor couldn't remember getting that way. They did a lot of things, and it took a long time, but he kept making himself work, even as he finished. He realized, since he was examining her so closely on the deepest levels, that she hadn't yet. Not quite. So he kept going until Petra didn't need any more, her moans lovely in the dark room. He let his lips touch hers again and noticed how different the field for her brain was. Not the thoughts, but the physical organ itself. Fascinating.
“Stay with me.” He murmured into her ear before she could collect her things and leave, which was her clear intent.
Taking the single stone he had, Tor sat and plunged his mind as deep as he'd ever gone. It felt like he only took a single breath, but it was morning when he opened his eyes and he held a basic healing device that he could only hope would work.
Dawn was just breaking, but he didn't need his eyes to see now, not in this state. Not really. Next to him Petra slept still, clutching her pillow a little. Setting down the device, which had a forest green glow to it, the sigil on the front a complex one of a person in silhouette, Tor leaned over and kissed her cheek. Even asleep she was pretty, he longed to run his fingers over her face again but let her rest. As he dressed, trying to be quiet she rolled over and mumbled at him sleepily.
“Sneaking out lover?” She was half asleep, but smiled, a lazy thing with eyes mostly closed.
“Yes. But I'll be back inside half an hour or so. I have work to do.”
“'Kay, wake me up when you get back?”
Tor promised he would and hurried to the beach, which looked horrible. Water had clearly been driven higher than the edge of the rock expanse, which would have buried his little magic house if he'd left it in place. The walkway he'd made wasn't visible at all, under layers of new rock and sand. Almost on top of where he would have been sleeping there was a large tree with no bark that had somehow washed ashore, as he looked he notice that it wasn't alone. There were at least twenty of them along the beach and more than a few trees down in the woods along it. For a second it occurred to Tor that Swarley had been right.
If he'd been out in that, he would have died.
Tor hurried and stuffed stones into the canvas bag he'd brought, loading it as full as he could and still carry it. He picked small stones, but wasn't as picky about their shape this time. If anyone cared about looks now, that was their problem.
It took till mid morning for someone to come for him, Trice as it turned out. She didn't knock, just walking in as if he wouldn't possibly be doing anything interesting or naked. Well, until last night she would have been right. Tor felt guilty. And excited.
He'd had sex. With a girl and everything. He hadn't even had to pay her, which given everything he'd kind of wondered if his first time, possibly all his times, would be gold transactions. Or at least silver. Petra had done it just because she liked him.
“There you are sleepyhead! I was just telling everyone how lazy you always are…” Looking at the piles of glowing stones, four hundred of them, she grinned. “Yep, as I figured. Well, let's get these in a case and get some food, we need to move as soon as possible.” Trice grinned at him, a different look than he was used to seeing from her. Not happy as much as… accepting? Like she'd known this was what he'd be up to if left alone?
A lot was broken and scattered around the town, but the people seemed alright, mainly. The first one they found that wasn't had already died, an ancient man that had been trying to save his little house from flooding, piling bags of dirt in front of it. Tor couldn't tell what had killed him. Heart attack or drowning? When he touched the corpse's field, which left him with a curiously blank and empty feeling, not the gross and slimy one he'd expected, he still couldn't tell. It seemed like something had broken in his brain, like a bruise or something maybe?
They passed out water purification devices and made large public cisterns out of focus stone that fed with pure water constantly for anyone to use. Petra and Trice set up emergency houses along the beach and then on the opposite side of town, using the water from two different streams for those. It took hours, but was way faster than trying to build new houses on the spot, even out of focus stone. It wasn't until nearly two in the afternoon that an old woman hobbled over, cradling her right arm which was visibly broken, though not bleeding, thank the universe. If it had been she'd have died already. Feeling his breath freezing in his lungs, Tor walked to her and held the healing amulet over her injury, then triggered it, touching it very lightly to her flesh. There was an audible pop, and she screamed, but even as he started to pull the green glowing field away, he saw the healing taking place, the bruise fading and finally the woman gasped.
He handed her the stone and walked away for a moment, relieved that it hadn't killed her outright. It had to work for him, and for Petra for that matter. But it worked for anyone? A general healing field. Just as planned.
He fought a grin. It was a good thing, but going around acting happy when people had lost their homes and wondered where their next meal was coming from would be rude. A minute later, his face schooled, he went back to the woman to collect the stone. She hugged it to her chest and refused to give it back for a moment.
“I'm better now… I mean, everything is better, not just my arm. I can walk, my back is straight again, and nothing hurts. You don't know what that's like, not hurting… Not until you’ve lived with pain for years.” Tor nodded, but held out his hand, reluctantly she gave the device back.
He could make more, he had more on him, and could even afford to give them away for free, but until he got a chance to test it, he wasn't just handing them out. What if they killed every third person or something?
They didn't.
Everyone just healed, including a father that had gone out in the storm early to rescue his daughter, a twelve year old girl that was sitting by him and crying forcefully. A tree had blown into him and crushed his legs and middle, he was bleeding but still alive when Tor and Holly got there, Kolb coming over when he saw them, Swarley trailing behind, looking less cowed around the fighter than Tor, for some inexplicable reason.
Honestly Tor expected the man to die from the healing attempt and told them all that, but the man chuckled almost imperceptibly and said something Tor barely caught at all.
“What the hell?”
Well, that made sense, if you were dead anyway, why not take the risk of the treatment killing you?
The healing worked though, completely, if painfully. The man screamed and hollered for about three minutes. Then he sat up and looked at his lower body, which was nearly healed. They left him with the field for half an hour, but it seemed to hold just fine. No one relapsed later that Tor noticed, so it seemed that field really worked. Yay. Most of the injuries were minor, but it was faster to heal those with magic than treat them otherwise and the people could be put to work within minutes instead of taking days to get healthy, so it was efficient.
The outlying areas were largely better… or massively worse depending on the location. A few full families were dead, their houses washed away or crushed, one just collapsed. But the rest were nearly untouched. The day lasted until after dark, when they decided it was too dangerous to work. Tor and Varley set up four houses which gave everyone on the working team a bed. He shared with Varley, Trice and the red-headed guard woman that had attacked them all the first day.
Yvonne was her name, she told them, a bit warily. Tor didn't mention it, but wondered what she thought they were going to do? Beat her up for spying on them? All she did was sleep, which was really all Tor was up to as well. It occurred to him that the women might have carried a grudge over being stopped like she had been, but apparently that wasn't a huge issue to her. Of course he'd given her pie too, so maybe that had already smoothed things over?
Who didn't like pie?
Varley crawled in next to him, but even though she tried to rouse his interest, he fell asleep anyway. It wasn't as much fun, but he didn't have a lot of choice in the matter. Work trance wasn't really sleep, for all it could look similar, and he'd been up for a long time. Too long. Besides, she probably only wanted to sleep with him so she could claim the child was his. Since that didn't matter to him, or likely anyone else, she could save the attempt if that was her game.
Then again, if she wanted to have sex, he wouldn't say no. It was fun. It didn't matter that she was pregnant, not really. He'd marry her like he was supposed to, and do his best to claim the child, even if it was obviously a royal giant or had the wrong hair color. For all he knew that could be why they were trying to marry her off to Peterson. Maybe he looked more like the real father? A funny thought passed through his mind, that the man, best described as fierce, intimidating, and verbally clumsy, may have managed to get the girl into bed. They clung together as they slept.
In the morning Trice looked over and shook her head as they sat up.
“Now I'm jealous. I admit I thought about climbing into bed with you Tor, but I guess I missed that chance… Well, dibs on tonight.” All the girls laughed, which Tor kind of understood, since sleeping alone had to be more comfortable, even on the soft shield material beds.
They all got warm showers and hot breakfasts, since both he and Yvonne could cook. Tor had to run out and make the pots and pans, using an earth compressor, a light tan focus stone here for some reason, compared to what he thought of as the normal red-black color. It was just as strong and heat resistant, so it would work.
That was the pattern for the next two days. The damage finally got fixed and they all returned to town to find that rebuilding was going well, but food was a little scarce. A lot of the fishing boats had gone down when the main dock lost a section that kept things tied in place. On top of that about half the stored food had gotten damp and just started to rot and mildew, before Tor could get a room drier made. Once he was told about the need he had a large batch ready to go inside an hour. No one had even thought to ask.
Tor didn't shake his head, because that made sense. You dried food in the sun, or by letting air run over it. Everyone knew that. The same with the rest of it though, he'd never even seen a fishing boat before, but realized that if he had an example, maybe he could help. It wouldn't hurt to look into it at least, right? No one knew to ask if he could do it though, so they didn’t.
Holly looked at him sadly when he said that, jaw clenching, as if it were an insult she didn't feel she deserved or something. It was one of those baffling things that didn't make a lot of sense to him. How would his helping her people be an insult to Holly? Was he not supposed to help? Or was it that she thought they owed him already or something, and here he was compounding the debt? That…
Tor didn't know how to explain it to her, but that it was an emergency and besides, there were no debts between friends, right? So of course anything that could be done to help would be. Even if it made her mad at him.
Inside her house she had plans and pictures of boats, a lot of them huge, but she assured him that the fishing craft were smaller, and powered by the wind. Tor realized that he could use a similar rudder set up to what was already used and something like the flight field for a cargo lift that would let people move almost the way they were used to in the water now and control their speed on purpose without rigging and sails. Maybe at least. If he didn't just mess it all up.
Later that day they went to the docks and Tor tried to memorize the way the brown wooden ships looked, their rough size and how they worked to collect fish. That part was important. A nifty craft that went where you wanted would be nice, but unless they could use them the way they were used to, people wouldn't. New things were treated with suspicion in most places.
For good reason. New things could have flaws, or dangers you wouldn't know about, since they were, by definition, new.
The boats he came up with were like the houses, not real at all, but they looked and felt right. Solid and correct to the touch, textured exactly like smooth wood. They didn't have sails, instead they had a single lever that controlled speed next, to the big round driver's wheel boat captains used. They gave the first one to a man named Jaime who, spat when he heard the idea, grumbled and groused about the evils of magic and then took off, and went out when no one else could. Hours earlier. Before they got to the end of the wooden peer to look for the next person to test it, three more walked over and asked to try one too. In all Tor handed out twenty that day. By night fall they had enough fish for everyone and a good bit of shellfish and giant reddish insects too.
Lobsters, the monsters were called. They even had a menacing name.
That led to an unexpected problem that everyone wanted Tor to solve himself, even Holly left it to him, smiling. Not as if it was funny, just like it would be a happy thing all around.
No price or fee had been given to the fishermen who used the boats. Holly suggested half their catch for the use of the craft, which they all agreed to readily. Tor didn't need that much fish personally, not even to give to his friends, but for the time being he could just give the fish away, right? People needed it, and while the free stuff would go first, hopefully that meant everyone would eat.
Another ten fishermen, all of these with intact boats, wanted to rent his as well. They were too good to pass up, weren't they? One of the men chuckled about it a little with Tor when he came to see about getting one.
“Jaime said he had his up to near forty knots! Didn't even stress the haul and that was into the wind. Even if he was lying and no man has ever said they heard Jaime telling tales, if it does half that it's worth the fish. Can't get a better rent than that, can you? Fish don't bite, we don't pay, and none to say against it? Sign me up admiral!” The man had a gray beard and was thin and hard looking in body, but Tor gave him an amulet too.
If they were careful they could take them out without ever getting in the water, he thought, though that part of it was a little trickier than it sounded. It helped to be flying at the time. Tor had learned the hard way. Twice. Well, he knew how to swim at least and it provided amusement for the hardened fishermen when he fell off the docks trying to lean over far enough for the boats to go in.
Five days later, leaving most of the fields behind for Holly to use, Tor had to figure they were gone, if not into some other project of Holly's, then into the pockets of the people using them. That seemed to be the rule, people just taking the things he made without even bothering to ask about it. If it kept up he might have to start thinking they were valuable or something.
It helped for now, with the clean up and rescue operations. A lot of people didn't have other houses than the ones they'd handed out any more either, and the water system they set up was kind of supporting the whole town. It was about all he had to offer really for the time being. The rest had to be up to each person, caring for themselves and their own.
Staying wouldn't help anyone, so Tor loaded his one case, the one he'd gotten from Sara Debri a long time before, and flew off with Petra and Trice, headed to Warden. This time he could just follow Petra, who actually knew the way, which made it fast and… well, not any more direct, just more certain. A thing he would have lacked going alone. It made him feel a bit better about it, because just setting off and flying long distances was always a little spotty until you knew the way.
The city was pretty in the daylight, he decided. White and green were the main colors, with a smattering of rust red and yellow just to keep things interesting. It radiated life. Friendliness.
They were all shielded and armed, the fields were all on stone, which was cheap for him, but high quality, because the fields would last longer. Regardless, these shields would stop light and electricity and using what he'd learned from that, he made it so that it wouldn't just stop death dust and other tiny particles. It created controlled fields of hyper intense heat to cook them before they could make contact. Searing, but on such a tiny scale you almost didn't notice it, except that the shield flared purple to let you see it happening. He'd built that in, to let them know if an attack started. It was kind of pretty, since there were little things in the air part of the time, and on rare occasion one would hit you by chance. He'd nearly freaked the first time, thinking it was the Austrans, but it seemed to be everywhere. Every now and again you'd notice a single little flash or two.
The weapons were reworked too, so that if they started to be blocked by a shield they'd shift to something else, until the weapon got through. That required a built in feedback mechanism, which was the hard part. You could also pick a given weapon type by hitting the glowing sigil for it along the stone rectangle. They were pretty lethal though, so he had to caution against using them carelessly. It was better than nothing, or being stuck, faced with someone wearing a really good shield and holding the wrong weapon in your hand, one that would do nothing. This gave you eight options, two of which would go through even his own shields, well, the old ones at least. He wasn't giving the new ones out this time, since that kept backfiring on him. Well, to Trice and Petra, and maybe a few other people, since if they attacked him, he wouldn't want them hurt by mistake. But no one else. If Smythe attacked him again, the man was going down.
As they flew in to the park in front of the palace, and the Wards estate was that, without a doubt. A beautiful thing in the daylight, white and gold, edging reminding him of a royal’s wedding cake. Easily as large as the King’s dwelling now that he saw it in real light and from slightly above.
Petra waived them down, so they could land near a marble fountain in a paved white stone courtyard. That's what Tor thought it would be called at least. But… a courtyard had to have walls, didn't it? This was surrounded by short, perfectly trimmed grass, palm trees growing in rows along the outer edges and some low bushes that seemed well groomed. They were notable mainly because their broad leaves had stark red shot through them. Pretty but a little freaky looking too.
“We should walk from here, I think. I… don't know what kind of greeting Marvin and Maria will have for me. They may send me away from the city. Maria really hates me…” Petra looked grim, her face set, like she expected to be humiliated by her family in front of her friends.
Tor set up the follow along fields on the luggage and took her hand gently, giving it a squeeze. It was an awkward thing, trying to work with both their shields, but it was the idea that counted. He hoped. Really he didn't know what to do with her now that they'd been together like they had. Was he supposed to keep it secret, act like it didn't matter at all, as if nothing had happened, or treat her as special and wonderful all the time? His inclination was to shower her with gifts and kisses, but no one acted like that. Not royals at least. He was one of them now, so needed to act correctly.
So for someone of her station that meant what? Sleep with her mother? It was a funny thought, but Tor wasn't sure it was an actual joke. The rules were just so incredibly different now.
The walk didn't take long, even at the slow speed they were going, barely a crawl, because Petra didn't want to set off any guards that might be in place. Not because they were dangerous, but just to protect them from Tor. The idea got him to stick his tongue out at her.
“Silly. Like I go around hurting people?”
No one came out to greet them, but when they rang the bell the door opened within a minute. The rope amazed Tor. Really it was the first one he'd ever seen that went all the way down to the ground on a noble’s home. He could have rung it himself with no problem. Honestly he could have knelt and made it work without straining.
Most of the others were so high he couldn't reach them without flying, or at least jumping comically. This was much better. It even looked old, so the tradition was in place before, not just something put in once they were dealing with short little him. Not that they'd have changed for that. He was just playing messenger really.
The person opening the door was a woman, one that had familiar golden blond hair, even though it had been cut in a military woman’s bob, and she was wearing considerably fewer clothes than he'd ever seen her in. Collette Coltress, Maria's half sister and Tor's personal friend. Even if they had only met three times before. Four now. Her eyes went wide in recognition, of Petra first, who she gave a warm familial hug. Letting go she quickly started to hug Trice, if not as warmly than at least perfunctorily enough. She stopped when she realized her left arm was gone at the elbow.
“Patricia… What…” She misted up, which seemed genuine enough. Still, he didn’t want Trice feeling sorry for herself. Oh, she had the right, and he'd probably have been curled up in a ball still, sobbing like a child if it had been him, but he couldn't handle a massive sobbing and crying festival right now.
“Don't pity her too much Collette. She lost an arm, but saved nearly two hundred people doing it. That includes the whole royal family, about half the sitting counts and countesses and their spouses and a lot of other people without such lofty titles, including me. She's a hero.” It came out in a rush, but still sounded proud he thought. “It was a steep price, but should be seen as a badge of honor and courage, not something to be pitied.”
Tor lifted his head, trying to look dignified, which was probably hard in his deep red canvas workman's outfit. Collette let a single tear fall but swept Trice into a careful embrace and didn't let her go for a long time.
Then she turned on Tor. There was enough venom in her eyes to make him wince a little.
“And what were you doing during this event?” Her voice had gone chilly, which he could understand, in a weird sort of way. Collette knew that Trice was her confederate, and that the King had ordered them both to be a little anti-Tor around the Wards, but clearly she expected him to have tried to protect her anyway. Even if he was little, and not as good a fighter as she was. Not as physically strong either, though that kind of made him uneasy to think about. All the giants were probably stronger than he was, even the girls, at least the ones that exercised regularly. Which reminded him to get back to his regular running soon. If you had only one edge you couldn't afford to lose it. Or even let it get rusty. Kolb had made sure he knew that lesson well enough back in school.
“Me? I… just sat there.” Tor said simply. Blankly. It was the truth. People were dying and he hadn't fought at all. He hadn't thought about it before, but it felt weak to him, like he let everyone down.
Trice snorted loudly, and with no dignity or concern for how it might sound, “right… just sat there he says… He stopped six streams, clouds really, of Austran death dust, holding it still in the air. All direct effect, without being in a combat rage, and while he was being tortured by one of the assassins to try and break his concentration. I grabbed the last bomb and it started eating my hand, but didn't spread like the others did. Princess Karina realized what was happening and used a cutter to take off my hand. She missed the first time, not getting all the death dust, but she was true on the second. Saved my life.” If the tone was bitter, it was hard to tell.
Then Trice was a good actress.
Collette nodded, looking troubled but not glaring at Tor anymore and got them all inside, closing the door after the luggage followed them all in. Tor had reworked the latest floats to handle steps, and hills too, so that it could be used to move cargo's of fish. Everyone thought it was a marvelous improvement, except Tor, who realized he should have just made it that way to begin with. That no one called him on his initial stupidity was kind, but he noticed it. Collette smiled as she watched the three trunks follow them in.
“Tor with his magic trunks… You know, if it's not too presumptuous… no, never mind. Everyone else is in the cool room. This way.” She smiled brightly and led them down a large central hallway to a room near the back of the building, which was deeper than Tor had figured it to be. A lot. That meant the Wards little house here was actually larger than the King’s palace in the Capital.
Gah. Who'd waste the materials on something like that?
Well, these people apparently. Or at least their ancestors. But while impressive, a house half as big still would have been as neat and no one would notice the difference, would they?
Marvin Ward, giant, and incredible looking enough that Tor felt a twinge of envy just seeing him, stood and moved to his sister before she was even all the way through the door.
“Pet? Thank god! This is a horrible mess, everyone thinks we tried to kill a bunch of people and we didn't. I don't know what to do. Help.” The huge man picked his little sister up into a hug that took the younger girls feet all the way off the floor. It wasn't dignified, but it didn't look like the man disliked his little sister either. Not at all really.
Maria stood and smiled. As soon as the Count dropped his sister she started to bow, her hair shining and put up in an elegant fashion with twists, wearing a lovely and nearly shear gown of white, similar to Collette's. The movement looked quite proper until she stood and shook her head.
“No.” She said, looking down. “It's time to put the past behind me properly. Petra…”
Countess Ward went to her knees smoothly and bowed her head contritely. Body upright though. Pretty humble, but not as much as she'd shown Tor.
“I've been rude to you Petra, when I had no call to be, because of something that was my fault to begin with. I can't ask for forgiveness, but I apologize, and ask that I be given a chance to make it up to you over time. If I live that long I mean. If I'm dead you'll just have to trust that I mean it.”
The room went silent. The correct thing to do would be to accept the apology, of course. Even a hick like Tor knew that. It was the right thing to do if someone tried to apologize to you, even if you weren't sure they meant it. The effort counted. But… if there was a lot of bad blood, that could be hard to do. Her answer could be anything from kneeling herself, to slapping the woman, or trying to kill her. Given the shield she wore and the weapon she had on her waist, Tor hoped it wouldn't be that one. She might just be able to take out a large chunk of the Wards forces on her own right now, given her skill set. Maybe all of them.
Instead she nodded seriously.
“Right, well, we can work on that. I…” Reaching down she grabbed Maria under the arms and picked her up as easily as her brother had her. Then she wrapped her in a hug that was gentle enough.
“I can let things go, if you mean it.”
Maria cried.