by Power, P. S.
Then the conversation started. Or rather the argument that rapidly devolved into a screaming match between Counts Ward and Thorgood. It seemed to center around who was responsible for the pregnancy, rather than seeking to find a workable solution. Ward, for someone that held enough interest in Ursala to have sex with her, apparently on numerous occasions, didn't seem to hold her in very high esteem anymore. He continued to heap more and more abuse towards her over the whole thing, as if he had no part in it. Tor may not know a lot about sex, he knew, but no one seemed to doubt that Ward was the father at all, so arguing over responsibility now seemed... insane.
Ward did, as Rolph had mentioned might happen, suggest that the baby simply be “gotten rid of”. Tor had to swallow his anger, but managed it. Barely. After all, short of dying, what else could he do? Ursala sullenly shook her head no at the suggestion and Marigold took her hand and patted it, while glaring at the man who'd despoiled her little girl.
Trice didn't say much and what she did say tended to be fairly helpful suggestions, such as the need to look for a solution, instead of placing blame. The King eventually told both men to shut up, he did it bluntly and with a bit of force behind it, which got their attention pretty well.
“We have two problems here gentlemen, neither of which your bickering has addressed at all. First we need to see that Ursala here is not abused in this case. Second, we need to see her married to a suitable individual within the month. Start naming candidates. Now please.”
Ursala's father went quiet at least, but the younger Count decided to take the opportunity to cast aspersions on the lady again. Tor watched as Rolph went from red to white and stood stiffly, turning to face the Count, his eyes looking a little dead. As he did sparks started to manifest around him, an aura of power. Trice slapped at her chest.
“Damn, I don't have my shield on!” She pulled back, scampering with almost everyone in the room towards the other side. The Royal Guard suddenly appeared in the room, looking deadly in their black and purple, heavy cloth that had to be uncomfortable, but that didn't look too different from what Tor had on at the moment himself. They all just stood around though, once they realized what was about to happen.
Rolph flipped the table out of the way with a casual gesture, not touching it at all. It left Tor sitting in his chair with no table in front of him, the only one left. Everyone else had the sense to get out of the way of the rampaging royal. Except him and Count Ward, who was looking at least as enraged as the Prince. Pulling out his shield amulet Tor activated it carefully and then tucked it back into his shirt. That way it wouldn't flop around if he got hit. It shouldn't anyway, but better to be sure of it.
He stood slowly and walked between the two men then just stood in place. As if sharing a single thought, both men pointed both hands at each other. Nothing happened until Rolph moved two steps to the left, causing a single chair to flip towards the Count. It stopped when it hit Tor's shield, his right hand extended to keep it from flying past. The way the chair flew... It seemed familiar somehow. As both men ran towards each other, with him in the middle, he suddenly got it. The force moved in a line, the energy inside the field being organized so that it all suddenly wanted to move in one direction! If they'd kept dropping more chairs into the field, they all would have flown too. It was like the flying field in effect. Only totally backwards in how the mechanism worked.
Chairs got caught in it and flew along the path set up in advance, which was different than how he had people flying, which held a single object in place relative to the field, the field giving the instructions moving along with it... It made sense! If he could set up a path, the ocean water could be sent along like a stream or a river. If he filtered it as it flowed into the line the water would all be fresh. It would take massive work, but it could be done. Tor thought so anyway. If building the fields in the first place didn't kill him. But hey, everyone died eventually, so wasn't it worth giving a chance?
As he stood the Count rushed him from behind and started pounding on him, causing the floor beneath him to make massive popping sounds. Rolph didn't hit him at least, moving around to strike at the other man. As a blow moved to hit home against the Count, Tor stepped into the path of it, distracted by the project at hand. Rolph pulled back and moved again, but still didn’t strike him. Not even his shield.
Then after about five minutes he realized that the real project at hand, Ursala's problem, wasn't being attended to at all. They were just wasting time on that one for sure. He looked around and finally saw the clutch of people standing by the door.
“Hey, anyone have any male relatives of, or at least near, marrying age that could be passed off as noble enough for Ursala?” Tor asked, his voice slightly abstract and distant as he tried to figure out how many devices he'd need per mile to carry enough water to make the whole thing work. Hundreds at least. Or did he? God. Making that many field copies would take forever. Weeks or more. Maybe they could hire the work done, as long as he got the initial template up? That was generally the hard part, coming up with a field that could be copied and passed to other plates or crystals. That many plates would be dangerous though. What if someone moved one by mistake? An unending flood of water popping out of the line... He needed to find some other way.
No one said anything for a bit, but finally Ursala's mother called out a name.
“Howard Turnbull?” She said, getting a groan from the room after a few moments.
Even the two men that stood hitting at each other stopped then. Rolph stood back and after a few seconds Count Ward did too. Both looked baffled for a second, then realized what must have happened. Well Rolph did. Ward stood there looking confused until Maria gently explained things to him. The girl wasn't rough with the man, but clearly led him more than the Count realized. That probably explained a lot about why the Count had been so cruel towards Ursala.
After all, he already couldn't marry the girl and no one was even suggesting that. No one had even said he should pay her money for the child or anything. The worst he should feel was embarrassed about how he'd misbehaved, but instead he'd reacted as if wronged somehow. If Maria was behind directing him that much...
Looking down Tor noticed that the stone under his feet had been cracked in a circle around him. A small path of lines followed the path he'd walked. Like the line of a river, shooting off into smaller streams moving outward. Like he'd need to do in order to water crops. Well, to get water to the crops. The farmers would have to control the actual watering. He'd helped in the garden at home, they all had, but that wasn't large scale farming at all. That part should be left to the pros he decided.
He stood staring at the floor for a minute, until a man in a Royal Guard uniform came and shook his arm gently, not really touching him, because his shield was still on. “Sir? Are you alright sir?”
“Oh! Sorry, yes, just thinking about something. Where were we? Howard Turnbull? Who's that?” The cracks didn't move or change so he looked up at Marigold and smiled.
Howard Turnbull, it turned out was everyone's idiot relative, a joke of sorts, not an actual person. It meant that one in the family tree that people hid away on isolated country estates. In this case, it could mean a sham marriage to someone that didn't exist. They would, in short, invent a person no one else had ever met for Ursala to marry.
The Queen nodded, obviously seeing something that Tor missed.
“Yes... Then in a couple years, he has a “horrible accident” leaving Ursala a widow, free to remarry without social stigma. It could work. Not ideal, but...”
No one was really happy about it, but everyone agreed it would be better than waiting and letting the child be born out of wedlock. Even Count Ward agreed with the idea, though Maria sat very still and looked angry for some reason. That there was no real father seemed to matter less than what other people thought.
Who was going to play with the child though? Or teach him how to hunt and fish? Or if it was a girl, fend off inappropriate suitors? Tor held hi
s tongue. Maybe they could find someone in time still. There had to be someone that would work, didn't there?
The Royal Guard evaporated as quickly as they appeared, leaving everyone else to hash out the details. Tor didn't want to run off, in case he was needed to stand in front of insane nobles bent on killing each other again, but he really wanted to sleep now. The day had just been too much for him to take easily.
Another two hours passed before they had a plan that everyone agreed with. Ursala would marry a man named Baron Hyrees, since that title stood empty, then in a year he'd “die” and she could turn and marry Rolph as she was supposed to have done. The child would be cared for and yet never in the line of succession. He or she would even get the Baron's title when “Hyrees” died, even though it wasn't landed. Better than Ursala being publicly disgraced, if just barely.
When the Counts and their wives left, Ursala with her parents, Trice ran over to him, hyperventilating slightly. “Tor! Are you alright?”
Everyone else came over as well, looking scared, except for the King who just looked slightly amazed. The giant man shook his head.
“That shield you're wearing, it blocks out the battle aura too, doesn't it? How did you come up with that?” The King looked impressed when Tor told him. And a little embarrassed when he told him why.
“So, I have to try and protect myself from Wensa, just in case. I don't know what I'll have to defend against. I still haven't figured out poisons, so don't tell her that one, alright?”
Tor assured them several times that he was fine, then after taking a deep breath, asked the King if he could see him in two or three days about the drought problem. It would take at least that long to make sure he could do anything useful anyway. The King just bowed a tiny bit and stated that they'd have luncheon in three days, if that would suit.
That... should be fine.
Rolph was at least as tired as he was after his combat rage episode, which he assured him wasn't a common thing. Tor reminded him that he knew it wasn't, obviously, having lived with him for years.
Rolph looked chagrined, “it's just, that guy, Ward, made me so angry. Sure, people have sex and sometimes things like this happen, but for him to act like he was the victim and worse, claim that she was a slut... it was too much. Even if she was a slut, which a half dozen lovers a year doesn't make her at all, you just don't say such things in public like that. I'm kind of surprised her father didn't declare war right there. Really, the only reason he didn't was probably the fight itself. Ursala's honor was defended instantly and then, what you did...”
His friend yawned and led him back to the guest house, so that they could both sleep. It was before midnight, but the morning would come early, Tor knew, somehow it always did. He headed off to bed as soon as he got changed for it, laying the nice clothes out on the table, so that he wouldn't accidentally ruin them. The room, thankfully, was cool. He'd left the servants with all the remaining personal heat exchangers he realized. No big deal, he'd make up more in the morning before he started on the other work that had to get done.
His head hit the pillow and he slept until he heard a soft knock coming from his door. He blinked awake, dim light coming from the curtained window of the large room.
“Coming.” He called out struggling to crawl out of the bed covers. Tor's feet didn't want to work right and he stumbled a little as he walked across the floor. Brushing the sleep from his eyes he opened the door, to find Rolph's sister Karina standing in the hall. She didn't wait to be asked in, ducking past him and closing the door to keep the cool in.
“Good morning! Sorry to bother you so early, but I heard about the temperature control devices that people can wear and wondered if you might have another that I could borrow? I know that I have no right to ask or anything, but I'm going to be out all day and...” She looked hopeful and gave him a cute look that he recognized as wheedling. He had sisters after all; it wasn't like it was lost on him. He held up his hand to stop her, and then yawned, covering his mouth with his other hand.
“Sorry,” he spoke quickly before she thought he was being mean to her or something. “All out. I don't even have my own anymore, or you could have that one. Gave them out to the servers last night. It will take me... Oh, at least another couple hours to do up the next batch. I have some plates I can put them on, but I don't have anything to etch them with. If you could find me some sand paper we could get it done quickly enough. Acid would work too, if you can find some strong enough?”
She looked surprised, but not put out.
“I suppose I could find something, two hours? I wanted to leave by noon...”
It turned out that it was only nine, so he assured her they could have something before then, if he hurried. She ran out and he got right to work, sitting on his bed, making the transfers from the template. It seemed easier to do this time for some reason. Maybe he was finally getting used to doing it? Could be the simplicity of the field itself too. Either way it worked for him.
He managed to get his teeth brushed and if not a full bath, a good scrubbing down, before the Princess got back. She had a bottle of acid with her and some natural fiber brushes that would simply dissolve if they tried to put it in the bottle. Her face fell when he mentioned that, but he smiled and assured her that they could use it anyway. Taking the plates out into the garden with a large bucket of water, he put the heavy paper on the metal, making sure it was flat and then carefully poured the stark white paste onto the metal, using the glass of the bottle's lip to spread it around. Then they had to wait about ten minutes to rinse, this acid being rather stronger than the stuff he could get at school, but once that was done, they were ready to go.
He handed her a damp piece of copper and had her test it. Standing out in the heat like they were, the effects were instant. He took one himself and did the same thing. The sudden sense of comparative cool took him for a moment. Delicious.
The thought reminded him that he should probably eat before getting back to work, if he could find food. He mentioned this to Karina, hoping she'd be able to point the way to the kitchen, which she did, even going as far as to walk him to the door of the small light colored outbuilding. Then she kissed him on the cheek and blushing, ran away.
He touched his cheek. Heh, kissed by a Princess. Wait until he told the folks at home. Then he realized they either wouldn't believe him or would misunderstand how innocent it really was. As she scurried away, a quick walk rather than an undignified run or playful scamper, she looked back over her shoulder and smiled. Her red hair swaying as she walked. Tor kind of wished she'd stayed. Having someone that belonged there next to him would have lent a lot of weight to the idea that he wasn't just some beggar that had slipped past the guard or something.
Looking down he realized that his old brown school outfit might not work for him in this situation. They'd probably grab him and set him to scrubbing pots or something, it didn't look that different than what a lot of the people in the kitchen wore he'd bet. The only problem really being that he had other work he needed to be doing. Instead, as he stood in the door, an unfinished wood frame, no one noticed him for a long time, almost five minutes. Finally a large woman, tall, not heavy, with gray and silver hair cut short, spun on him.
“Help you sir?” She said her voice friendly, if hurried.
Tor asked if they had a spare crust of bread or some fruit lying around that he might have, the woman chuckled and had him sit at a low table apologizing for the heat. She bustled and grabbed half a small loaf and cut him a slice of light yellow cheese, which she laid on top of the brown crust, to this she added a stack of apple slices that had been dried. They had an odd, almost crisp texture that melted in his mouth when he took a bite of apple. One of his new dryers had been used on these then? The effect was interesting, if not identical to regular dried fruit.
The woman smiled at him as she scooted him out the door by waving at him, he had to carry the new heat exchangers under the bread, but managed it without dropping an
ything. Thinking for a second, Tor rolled his eyes. Seriously, he was a moron sometimes.
“Excuse, ma'am? Um, here, they don't have cords on them, but they might help with the heat.” Holding out half the pile of copper plates got the tall woman to stop and stare at him for a second, as if he was trying to give her a burden. Maybe she didn't like magic or...
“Oh! Are these some of those cooling devices the servers got last night? I've been trying to cage one all day, since I heard about them...” She took one from his grasp and hit the sigil, closing her eyes briefly as she did.
“Ah... OK then, I can see what all the talk was about.” She tried to hand it back, but instead was met with the other half of the pile.
“For you in here. I know that it's brutal, the heat in here. Let me know if you need more and I'll try to get some to you?”
The woman blinked for nearly ten seconds and then nodded, taking the things slowly, as if unsure.
“I...” She didn't finish the statement though.
Tor looked at his food hungrily and shrugged after a bit, it was getting awkward. He didn't expect thanks for it, but the woman didn't seem to know what he wanted, since that had basically already been taken care of, Tor smiled and made sure the food didn't fall.
“Um, thanks for this.” With that, he walked out quickly, the rest of the people stopping to stare for some reason.
Then Tor sat on the grass next to the guest house, in the shade, hopefully out of the way enough so that no one would notice him. As he did his mind turned back to the problems he had to work on for the day. Getting water to the drought stricken area and heavy lifting cargo devices. Reluctantly, he decided that he'd have to wait to build the full fields for either of them. After all he didn't even know if he could move water yet, or take salt out of it. He knew he could do the other one just being a larger version of something he already had, but it would take three or four days of work for the template, and he had an appointment with the King about this other thing first.