by P. S. Power
Both played violins, a light dancing tune that brought to mind the sparkle of sunlight on green leaves after a rain. It really wasn't fair, he decided, for these men he really didn't care for to be that good at something. He noticed one of the music instructors standing behind them, fingering a guitar delicately, adding the whisper of falling rain to the whole thing.
That… was strange, because Tor knew him to be a Royal Guard. If he'd wanted to come in, he and his people could have just asked and sat with them rather than make pretense. The man was good though. Possibly the best Tor had ever heard, not that music was a strength of his. The other player was a woman, tall, plain, and at least as gifted as any of the others, also on guitar. The counterpoint she played to the rain sounds had to take timing on an epic scale. The men wore black clothing, light and airy, silk it looked like, but she wore a deep blue gown. It had slits to let the breeze in, but this house was cool inside, not cold, but the heat outdoors was oppressive, so the contrast had to leave her a little chill.
She looked to be in her late twenties, but it wasn't a hard lived look. More like the young and springing type of woman, whose life wasn't so hard as to wear them down before their time. Without waiting, or asking, they moved to one side and kept playing, and for some reason everyone else ignored them, except to occasionally tap along on the table or move their head in time to the music.
They played without a real break for the whole meal, stopping only after the dessert dishes were pulled away by the servants, dressed in green like they did at the palace. From there people kind of broke up a bit, most of them leaving the room without hesitation, wanting to get to the festivities. The first small fireworks display would be that night. It was the same device for all of them, but it had six settings on it. Bonita had taken personal charge of the three pound piece of tan glassy rock with its glowing sigils. All the same in look — simple line birds — like what children drew in school, with three lines above each. The size got larger from top to bottom, making the idea clear enough. Tonight’s would look like normal fireworks, he thought. The only difference was they wouldn't set anything on fire. In a dust dry place like the Capital that was an important factor. They normally wouldn't risk such a display this time of year at all, even for the King.
Seeing that they were free to speak to now, Dorgal and his friends approached with large smiles and instruments in hand. Tor fought the urge to turn on his shield, knowing he was already safe and so was everyone else in the group. Except Ali. She didn't have a shield at all. Not even a temperature equalizer. That would have to be fixed fast.
Standing Tor moved towards the group, a smile on his face, and slid his body between them and the girl with enough subtlety that he really doubted anyone noticed, except Burks, and maybe Rolph, who knew the score better than most here did. He decided for trying to start out with kindness. After all, he'd done business with Dorgal in the last year, and as far as he could tell the man had actually dealt with him fairly and without bugging him about anything. Maybe that would count for something, if only a little.
To Dorgal, being merchant born, it apparently meant a lot, if the look on his face counted for anything. Tor started speaking, his voice gentle, saying the obvious first, giving credit where it was due.
“You all played beautifully. Masterfully even. Thank you for coming.” There, he decided, if Dorgal wasn't at least polite now…
“It was the least we could do Tor! Our fortunes are all made because of you. I… honestly it surprised me when you gave us the earth moving equipment contract so openly, like a true friend, after how I treated you all that time. Then making sure Meredith here was taken care of, even though you weren't available to marry her yourself… I'm not ashamed to say I cried when that shipment of goods came from you for us. We'd been looking at some way to show our thanks and friendship for some time, when Backus here found us a few days ago and suggested we do this, well, we've practiced nearly non-stop. Do you really think we did all right?”
Everyone agreed with Tor’s take, even Burks.
“Very well indeed. If you don't mind, we'll drag you to the palace tomorrow for the King’s party, outdoor work, but the air's dry, so it won't damage your instruments. It's not the same as getting an invitation to the party yourselves, but if you distinguish yourselves you can build contacts there. Worth doing.”
Still wondering where the trap was, Tor made introductions all the way around. The only joy in it really was that when Rolph, the affable boy everyone always liked from school was revealed to be Prince Alphonse Cordes himself, he thought Dorgal was going to pass out. Then it was probably just shock at the change up, because Dorgal had always been kind to his tall friend. It wasn't like he had to eat sour over it now or anything.
The fireworks started then and everyone piled outside to sit and watch the sky above the city light up. It was pretty enough Tor decided, but hoped the following nights would be more impressive. Dorgal came to him then and for some reason patted him on the back.
“Not bad for a little baker boy from the back woods.”
That was what he always called him, to taunt him, “the little baker boy”. This time it sounded different. If not kind, at least not a jibe. A hand rested on his back for a long while.
“I'm not good at this, but I apologize for,” he sucked in air loudly as the sky lit again, booms just before the sparks flared. “Basically for being a prick to you. I was wrong the whole time. I hope we can be friends in the future?”
It sounded contrite. Maybe it even was, but two years of looking over his shoulder daily and dreading going outside alone wasn't going to be easily washed away with a few words. Still… If Dorgal freaking Sorvee was going to give it a try, shouldn't he be at least as willing? It was hard but Tor nodded.
“Alright. Friends then.” There, he'd said it. No going back now. There were no debts between friends, even new ones and that meant setting aside old baggage too. He doubted he'd do it perfectly, but he'd just committed to really trying, hadn't he?
Rolph came and stood beside him, on the other side, which made Dorgal's hand on his back jolt, a jump, well hidden, but real. The Prince seemed happy, not taking his eyes off the sky. He spoke just loudly enough to be heard over the oohhs and ahhs of the crowd.
“Good. I missed having you as a real friend Dorg. I don't know what came between us, but let's put that in the past too? If you two can get along, maybe there's hope for the world after all?”
When the fireworks ended Dorgal asked them out for drinks, even offering to pay. Rolph accepted immediately but Tor yawned a little and begged off. He didn't drink, but that wasn't why he didn't go.
“I have to be up at four.” He said simply.
Rolph nodded, knowing what was going on, but the news surprised Dorgal.
“Really? During a festival week? Why on earth would you do that?”
“Oh, I'm working mornings, at a bakery in town. It's a tradition.”
Dorgal laughed and laughed, sounding almost as if he were drunk already. He laughed even harder when Rolph told him it was true. Sticking out his tongue, then smiling a bit, Tor went to bed, pulling Petra, Karina and Ali along. He cuddled with them, but didn't do anything more, since Ali was possibly going to be his daughter soon.
That wouldn't be proper at all.
The morning came gods awful early, and Tor felt like he hadn't slept at all. He had, but it wasn't enough, his body ached and felt stiff, probably from all the extra running and beatings he'd been getting, so he stretched before climbing into the shower. Petra joined him, still sleepy but looking cute about it. Tor figured he just looked tired.
“To save water. Don't want it to run out, do we?”
Since it wasn't possible, Tor took it as a joke. What they did next took a lot longer than either would have taken in the shower alone, but was totally worth it. When he'd just finished with Petra, still in front of her on his knees, she giggled and moved to the left, only to be replaced by a tall thin Princess that was goi
ng to make them late, he opined. She stared into his eyes meaningfully.
“Work quickly then? Talking won't get us there any sooner will it?” Her voice held a chuckle.
Her hair was soft between her legs, a dark copper red that spun light out from it in near gold for some reason, as it came from the window. People could see in, but he doubted anyone would be watching overly. If they were, that was their problem. Or pleasure.
He worked as quickly as he could, his tongue getting a little sore already, but not wanting to be pulling in with the first of the early revelers either. Grasping his head she started grinding her sex against his tongue hard. It wasn't the most pleasant thing ever, but she started trembling and spasmed under his mouth a half dozen times, which made her seem more relaxed. Looking up he realized that Petra had stayed to watch the whole thing and so had Ali.
Tor stared at the girl.
“Hey you!” He said, making shewing motions with his left hand, still between the Princess' spread legs.
“You shouldn't be watching things like this, at least with me involved. What kind of father does that?” He sounded very serious but everyone else chuckled at him. Well it seemed like an afterthought when Ali did it, but she managed when the others did, like she knew to laugh, but not what the joke was. If so, that made two of them.
Karina looked pleased at any rate.
“See Ali! You're not all alone in the world after all. I told you so. We'll get out so you can shower and get ready. Ten minutes though, we really do need to hurry, it's almost light.”
They all had to work hard to make up for lost time when they got in, and send Ali off with David Derring to get a load of amulets for the shop, since they were actually selling out of a lot of things. Tor was going to run out at this rate, except for the free ones that he had Ali hand out, standing in front with a small hand basket. They were for later that night, lights that made a person glow in different colors with the tap of a sigil. A large nimbus of light surrounding them.
It was a brighter light than the ones he'd made the year before, meant to be more festive and fun than decorative for royals. Less tasteful, but more interesting and even useful, since after the festivities were done they could be used as lights inside a dwelling or carried at night to let people see. The white light on them was easily bright enough to be used inside a house and they should last a while, helping people save a bit on candle and lamp oil costs. He had a lot of them. Actually so many he wasn't really sure how he'd gotten them done while working on everything else, two and a half large cases full. That would be nearly three thousand of them he thought. Enough to light the whole city for the festival.
Tor wasn't certain, but he thought he might have actually done them all at once. One batch. Of a nearly novel build. He didn't remember doing it at all.
When the next set of Kolb's guards came Tor went straight to the palace with Karina, but sent Alissa to the festival area to continue passing out the free amulets. She wore one to demonstrate, picking a brilliant pink color that was easy to see even during the day. At least she had outside the shop. No doubt it would be popular, because while the girl may not be bright, she was cute, and men liked big breasts. The thought was honest and true, but made his stomach turn a little.
Not the pretty with big breasts part. Adopted daughter to be or not, that was just true. It was his thinking of her as not being bright. If she was lacking something, it was up to him to help her find it, mentally accepting her as being dull witted could help make her that way and influence how he treated her. He needed to fix that. Fast.
Kolb had a few people ready to go when they got to the event site near his house, flying in to save time, an Afrak Ambassador in the rear. She was still not having an easy time with flying, but Trice had come, and was letting her clasp her left arm as hard as she wanted. It didn't hurt after all.
The loop they flew, drawn on the weapons instructors map, started and ended on the far side of the palace, the river actually balancing on the top of the city wall. It took five of the ten control stones to make the curve, but only four more to set the river in place. Two into the Capital and two out. Once it was ready they all piled in the carriage, the top being made clear, so that the dark skinned lady could see how it all worked. She helped set half the stones with her own hands and got to hit the activation sigil standing on a cliff above the ocean so the tide would never reach it. The single tentative flick of a finger sent a roar of water through the air, the sound moving away as the whole thing flowed onward. The almost clear tube of water about five feet over the shore hung steadily and didn't look like it was moving at all, even though the water was rushing very fast inside it. Something over fifty miles per hour. The whole thing was vast though, about four hundred feet in diameter. It should work, to start with.
It had to travel close to three hundred miles to get to the Capital, so they had hours to spare now in getting back. They even knew it had been set up correctly, because if it hadn't been, the water wouldn't have flown at all. That was a safety feature Tor had put in when he remade them. Looking at the stream above her, the normally happy Mutta sat down… and started crying.
It had a smile with it, but was just as loud as what Trice always did when she cut loose. Higher pitched too, Mutta's being shorter did that, he thought. It was odd, because the short dark woman normally managed an almost manly tenor when speaking.
“Court Jester! There is a river in the air! I hit that small decorative light, a flame within stone, and pure water flows from the sea at my command! The desert shall have water, it shall have life! For a thousand years we have tried and failed, but now it will happen!” Still crying and smiling she yelled and danced, pulling him around with her. It was goofy and undignified, but then, as she'd said more than once, she wasn't a real Ambassador.
Tor could kind of relate to that idea.
They ate a nice basket lunch under the shade of some trees, the food good if plain, hand pies from Debbie's for dessert. Karina pointed out that Tor made them himself, which was only partially right. Box had made the peach, you could tell because the consistency in size and shape was lower. His were a more even brown and slightly flakier too.
Sure, he was bragging a little, but no one called him on it, so he may not have been going way over the top. The combat giants acted impressed and so did Trice. Karina had seen him make thousands of the things in the last few days and didn't blink at the idea, but Mutta just nodded, a very matter of fact thing.
“You will make some woman a wonderful husband someday Court Jester. Keeping her home neat and tidy, raising her children and making sure good and nourishing food is on the table at the end of each hard day. Many women will offer your mother many plants and seeds for you. Even the rarest of silk goats and already planted acres of land. Ha!” She laughed suddenly, shockingly, as if just realizing something.
“And get the best of the bargain if they win! Eternally young and lovely, never dying or slowing with age. There is not enough wealth in all the lands for a husband like that. Add your kind nature and soul and…” She looked around, seeing baffled glances.
Apparently, in Afrak, people didn't keep many secrets. Not at all. She explained how she'd tested Tor’s blood against Count Lairdgren's and found that they were both ancients. That they were the Green man himself. Her words confused people, so she went over it and then doubled back. Finally Kolb rubbed his head looking at the tiny woman skeptically.
“Tor's… been alive for thousands of years?”
Tor stuck his tongue out at the weapons instructor, truly lost as to what else to do.
“Obviously not. Come on, you've known me for years and seen me get older. I'm only eighteen.”
Karina didn't let it go at that though. Mainly clarifying for the others.
“But you’re going to live that long, unless you get yourself killed? And Burks Lairdgren has done it already, right?”
Shrugging Tor nodded, it really was something like that. Mutta smiled and agreed happily
.
“Yes, and they are the same person. The Court Jester is the Court Jester, and the Count is the Count, but save a tiny difference, you would find more separation between identical twins, they are the same man. Like clones, only not, since Tor was simply born, the pattern carrying true. It's happened before, with the Gray lady. Legend says her daughter is her too, with no difference at all. So it is here. It's most exciting, isn't it?”
Perhaps it was to one like Mutta. Everyone else stared at him suddenly like he was a freak. Wrong somehow. Which was pretty much true. People weren't meant to live that long, were they? No one spoke to him after that, except Mutta, who didn't have a problem making noises at him. Finally, just so everyone would have a reason to ignore him, he started getting her to teach him words and phrases in Afrak. It was an easy language once she slowed it down for him and he could get things committed to memory. They kept working on it as he drove, with her describing things in both languages, so he could get the meaning. Tree, shoe, girl, boy, rock, sleeve, up, down, in and out.
It wasn't possible to drive and focus completely like he should, but he managed to get most of it the first time, shamelessly asking for correction when he messed up. It wouldn't matter if he looked stupid, not with everyone staring at him when they thought he wasn't looking.
He was still him after all.
It wasn't like them knowing this made him any different. Did they hate him now that they knew he was some weird kind of freak? Even Trice rode looking out the window, not trying to even tease him about the “make a wonderful husband” cracks. Mutta hadn't meant them that way though, did she?
It wasn't a joke to her, she just thought he'd be good in that role. It sounded a little boring to him, but it would probably leave him time to work on building at least. Maybe someone in her country wouldn't care if he was different?
Tor kind of wanted to crawl into bed and sleep then, early or not, but had to go to the party later, so just sat alone in his room and waited. Then he remembered that he didn't have an invitation. Last time he'd gotten to the gate of the King’s palace with Collette Coltress next to him, sitting with Count Thomson and his own sister, and been turned away. It had hurt at the time, more because it had ruined Collette's evening. But the reason had been that no one had thought to issue him an invitation. Was the same thing about to happen again? Lying back on his bed he drifted off for a bit. Well, nothing for it now. Sure, he could call up the King or Queen, but what good would that do? It was probably too late for him to get an invitation at all. He'd wanted to ask, but got side tracked, it was when he'd heard about Yardley, so yeah, that took his attention at the time.