The Dark Half of the Sun (The Young Ancients: Timon)

by P. S. Power

  "You," Tim didn't let his eyes move from hers for a second, so that she'd know he wasn't just talking about the clothing. "Look amazing. I knew you were special, but I didn't think I'd be having dinner with the loveliest women in the Kingdom when I got up this morning." Timon held out his right hand to take hers looking up at her the whole time. It would look ridiculous, but neither the Count or Countess mocked him for it.

  His parents would have, but it seemed that the Rosses were going to be a bit nicer to him than that. It wasn't that his da was mean spirited, but there was a simplicity about how he lived, which his mother was often drawn into. That was the funny part to Timon. He was certain that she didn't realize how often it happened. It wasn't clever manipulation that did it either, the man just enjoyed life, including the simpler things. Like making fun of a boy trying to act like an adult, even when he clearly wasn't. There was humor to be had there, but for all the world, these people didn't even crack a smile.

  Farlo looked a little shy though.

  "Thank you, Countier Baker. May I call you Timon?"

  "That or Tim, whichever you like. How should I address you?" It was a bit formal, since they had met a few times and everyone called her Farlo at school, and on the ship to Austra, but he didn't know if that was just a nickname or not.

  "Oh... Farlo is fine. My full first name is Farlocenian. It's a bit much to use in public, don't you think?"

  It was, really. He didn't nod, making solid eye contact for a moment instead.

  "A lovely name. Farlocenian. But to avoid confusion I guess I should stick to Farlo, since that's what the world knows you as already." It was an over statement, but if the girl wasn't known yet it was only a matter of time. That was pretty much true of the whole Lairdgren group. Even if they did nothing but make copies they'd end up being famous. Rich too.

  The older people looked away politely again, smiling a little, but in that contented way that elders had when they thought what you were doing was cute, but not too far off of what they'd have wanted to see. No shocked gasps or tension in the neck and shoulders at least.

  The Count narrated the first part of the trip, telling him about how he'd built the walls of the city himself, after the old ones fell into disrepair.

  "It took five hundred craftsmen five years, but these walls are thick and sound. They should hold for another few hundred at least, don't you think dear?" He was sitting behind Timon directly, the seats having been restructured for the four of them, Farlo next to him. Timon had made the interior a lot bigger than it had been, as well as the seats. The giants needed the room. The Count was tall enough, but wasn't nearly as vast as his Countess, who murmured that the walls were very nice, a thing that sounded a little rote to Timon's ear.

  Then they chatted about half a dozen different things as they rode along. A popular topic was music, which caught his attention when one of the names was mentioned.

  "Marco Sorvee is the new man to watch I hear. Penned a few popular tunes already. He went to Lairdgren with you, didn't he Farlo?" The Count spoke easily, just marking time.

  Farlo nodded.

  "Older than me, I didn't know him well, but his cousin, Dorgal, is said to have been a good friend of Prince Alphonse. I didn't ask about that, since we weren't supposed to admit we knew who he was at school. Very good friends, from what I hear." There was a tone of voice that spoke of being slightly naughty, mentioning other people's business. Gossip wasn't exactly frowned on, but the nobles didn't admit they did it either.

  Timon kept his eyes forward. That, "very good friends" was code for having a sexual relationship with. His ma had taken him aside and just laid that out before the trip to Vagus. Mainly because she was a little worried that Denno Brown might try something with him. For all that he'd teased Tor a few times the man had never so much as hinted at liking men more than women and certainly didn't make a pass at him. It was pretty accepted in the upper circles. Some men did that with each other. So did women.

  Two Bends didn't have that kind of thing, but he'd noticed it other places a few times. For the most part it was a secret, at least in the smaller villages and towns. The upper crust cared a lot less about that however. In the main you still had to get married, make your spouse feel welcome and wanted, and provide children to carry on the line. Other than that people did whatever took their fancy. Except children and animals. The latter would get you laughed at openly until you retired from polite company forever and the former...

  Well, the last time he'd heard of someone doing that it was right after his brother had beaten the man to death with his bare hands, in a duel that was supposed to be little more than a schoolyard punch-up. Since Tor wasn't around and his brother Todd wasn't much of a fighter, or nearly immortal, that job had probably fallen to him. Hopefully it wouldn't come up soon, because he really couldn't fight at all either.

  He noticed the purple river first, even though the glow wasn't too impressive yet, and pointed to it with his left hand.

  "Straight ahead is the Capital. We'll fly to my brother's first, it should only be a few more minutes."

  Faster than that normally, but he settled the craft slowly, so that the passengers wouldn't feel uneasy. No one but him seemed to enjoy the really fast landings. They were efficient, but it paid to keep an eye on what other people wanted. Especially when they might be clients one day.

  It was a little early still, but it was clear without looking that Count Thomsons carriage, a real one that was drawn by horses, wouldn't fit them all. They had nine people going along with them after all. A proper carriage could possibly hold six, if they were very friendly about it.

  There was a simple enough solution though, which was to reshape his fast carriage for the task. It took a bit of focus to convince the craft that it wanted to look like something that horses could pull, complete with fake wheels that would touch the ground and spin, but it was sharp enough looking in its black and silver, he thought. Now all he needed were some jet black horses for it and it would be set.

  Not that it needed such animals to work, but this was about appearances. A lot of people here were used to magical conveyances, but they still expected the very wealthy to show up with horses and drivers. If he worked this right it would be both. The horses wouldn't even have to pull a lot of weight, since it really was magical. Tor didn't own horses though, not seeing the need.

  Luckily Count Thomsons carriage would have some. Except that it didn't, because he pulled up to the house driving a white and gold floating carriage that looked pretty good itself. It was also plenty big enough, which got him to shake his head a little. He felt a little foolish until the Count, standing over seven feet tall, muscular and blond and wearing fine black clothing, got out and clapped several times.

  "This is beautiful! How did you get the wheels to touch the ground like that?" He ignored the other people who were gathering around, for about ten seconds, then bowed to the Rosses. "Wonderful to see you all. We brought our large vehicle, since we had word you were all coming, perhaps we should ride in this one however? It looks almost ready for horses."

  Timon nodded and pointed out that it was also ready for a driver, just like a carriage, which got Collette to run inside and find a dark skinned older man that looked at the whole thing and changed his clothing to match the carriage by touching his chest.

  "Ladies? Gentlemen? I believe we can be on our way?" The man bowed low, which had Countess Ward, who was dressed in a lovely outfit, smiling at the man hugely.

  "Perfect Morgan. Can you drive this?"

  It turned out that he could, as long as there was a standard arrangement for the controls. Timon made the attachment points for the horses vanish, but the man seemed to have a good handle on it, going over what to do easily.

  "I drove Carriages during the last two major holidays here. Master Tor lent us nearly a hundred of them for people's amusement." He whispered the words to Timon, as if it were a secret or something.

  "This is a Fast Carriage, so even on
the ground it will want to race a bit. Keep that in mind. If you have to take it up into the air at all, make certain you get inside first, or the air will kill you. Even with the best shield on." The man had magical clothing, so it was possible he had a good shield too.

  There was no reason for him to be flying around, but if he took it for a ride while they were in the party he didn't want the man turning to paste in the air. He seemed to be nice after all.

  "Oh? I've heard of these. I'd love to give it a try sometime. I've flown the slower kind, a few times, but no one has them for sale, not that I could afford one." The man sighed and shook his head.

  "I remember a time when men couldn't fly at all. Just, what was it now? Three years ago? Now I've done it myself, more than once. I shouldn't be greedy."

  The others were loaded inside, which meant he needed to be as well, so they could get underway.

  "May I ask your name sir?" Timon said it very politely, which made the man give him a large, toothy grin.

  "Morgan Vertis. No need to call me sir, I don't even work here. Just came when I heard that Master Tor had gone missing, not sure if we were supposed to arrange a search or not. Turns out we aren't. I was hoping to catch a transport back to Warden, but the Countess isn't leaving yet, and I've been playing manservant while we were here, since I was about anyway. I mainly do festival work, pour drinks at parties and such."

  "Oh? Would you like a job Morgan? Piloting Fast Craft? It means doing things like this at times..." He gestured as he hoped down but the man nodded.

  "That would be about the dream wouldn't it? Flying new places with fine people, faster than the birds can think it."

  It wasn't a yes, but Timon really had to get inside. That took a minute, since he wanted to sit next to Farlo, which meant a few Counts had to move around for him to do it. They didn't complain about it and Countess Ross beamed at him, as if suggesting grown men get out of his way was cute. He did it kindly though, since angering a Count was about as stupid as a person could get.

  The trip took a lot longer than it should have, since apparently his birthday party was a big deal now. The streets were full of carriages and at least a half dozen vendors were selling doodads or festival foods near the front of the palace. There was even a band playing a happy tune as the Royal Guards asked for their invitations. His was tucked inside his jacket, in a pocket he'd made just to hold it.

  Then, after they all showed that had a piece of paper, they were each questioned as to their names, reasons for being at the Palace and how they felt about the King. Most of the others answered without issue, but Ali frowned a bit, glowing under the truth field, with its white and yellow stripes.

  "I'm... a bit put out by the King right now. I don't mean him any harm, except a good talking to, if he's foolish enough to see me alone." She flushed a little then looked at everyone else. "Not that I have the courage to talk to him alone, but if I did, he'd be getting an earful."

  Oddly enough the gate guard just nodded, "very good."

  When the device came around to him he just drew a blank. How did he feel about the King? They had a choice about that?

  "Well, good, I suppose. A bit intimidated, but he's the King, so that only seems prudent." It wasn't a lie so that was enough to get him in with everyone else. True it made the Royal Guard smile at him, but that was to be expected. The Carriage moved along inside at a stately pace, and they were let out by the front door, to be met by servants that directed them to the dining room they were to eat in. It took a bit of a walk to reach it, but he offered his arm to Farlo when they closed on the line to get in.

  Alphonse had been correct it seemed, there were a lot of full grown adults around, many of them a lot older than his own parents. "Duddies" the Prince had called them. They were arranged in twos, each name being called off as they entered the room. It was a nice space for it, with at least a hundred and twenty people already inside. A hundred and twenty-six, if he counted the three visible servants.

  There were still people coming as well, since it was early, only about seven-thirty. The Rosses went first, then Tovey and Terlee. Countess Ward walked up with Collette, who was introduced as Baronetta Coltress. The liveried man on the door smiled at him a little grimly and shook his head, which got Timon to step in just a bit. The man smiled, looking a bit sheepish his old face slightly embarrassed.

  "Sorry sir..."

  "First time here, not a problem. I'm Timon Baker, Countier seven Lairdgren. This is Farlocenian Ross, Conserina... That I don't know. She's also a builder and a member of the Lairdgren group." Said that way it was pretty clear that he was dating above his station a little, and not just his years.

  The man turned to the room and called out again, his voice loud, but not screaming as he did it.

  "Countier Lairdgren, Timon Baker and his companion Conserina Farlocenian Ross!" The part about being a builder was left off, but that made sense. No one else had a job description either, just a title. It made him seem far more acceptable to the room too, no doubt. His Countier was nearly as good as being a Baron for instance, even if it didn't have the riches involved. No taxes from his people, because, of course, he didn't have any.

  The others had moved to one side, waiting for them and chatting it seemed. Two more people had joined the group, talking mainly to Countess Ross. One was a large man that was at least a little taller than the King, but also had a lot of muscle across the shoulder. The ruler was thin compared to this man and neither could be claimed to be fat at all.

  The man looked over at them as they walked up, his hand coming out and down toward him immediately, as if he was someone important.

  "Countier Baker? Count Ford. Friend of your brother's. The King mentioned to me that I should mention to you that I could use your services? Bit of an emergency in my County has come up. My wife is having our second child. My fifth, she's my second wife. I know that it's a huge imposition pulling you away from the party, but the Afrak doctor here is said to be one of the best in the world and... I thought I had more time. She's having the baby right now." He sounded a little scared, which got Timon to stand up straighter.

  His wife was in trouble and needed Princess Abby?

  "Ford... Due west from here. I... what time is it?" He hadn't thought to bring a watch in with him.

  Count Thomson had one however and pulled it out, the nice gold chain making just the faintest of sounds as he moved.

  "Seven-fifty... Now."

  That gave him an hour and ten minutes to get the man to his wife and get back again, if they'd let him in twice. It also meant abandoning his date. That was really rude.

  "Farlo... I don't want to leave you here alone..." But asking her to go with them was just as bad.

  She smiled though and waved her right hand at him a little.

  "Go, I'll make your excuses to the King and Queen. This is more important. You owe me a real date though." She looked serious enough about it that he nodded.

  "I promise." That was a dangerous thing to say, but he meant it.

  "Alright then. I wish you and your wife the best Count Ford." That got a murmur of well wishing from everyone standing around them. A much larger collection of people than he'd figured on. One of whom was the Prince, who started walking with them toward the door.

  "This way. Abby is waiting for you outside. Mother warned her that she was needed so she ran for her bags. Medicine, and her patients, are the most important things to her." This was said on the run, the long legged men moving faster than it seemed like they really were, taking their very long strides. Timon was able to keep up pretty easily, even if it did mean taking three steps for each one of theirs. It was still only about half of what he could do.

  The Princess Doctor was waiting for them, her clothing a plain blue outfit that looked like a tunic and loose pants, two large oversized bags in her hands. Timon was about to let them know that they'd have to search for the Fast Carriage among the others that had come, but it rolled over on its own, stopping not ten
feet from them. George, the Royal Guard, jumped out, followed by Morgan.

  "Here." The guard didn't explain anything, so Timon didn't take the time to ask, slapping his hand to the front of the device and focusing, until it turned into a ten seat mirrored rectangle.

  "Alright, everyone get in. Morgan, you can sit up front, the controls are just like a regular carriage. I'll get us in, you can fly back." He wasn't looking at who was there with them, taking off as fast as possible, going straight up first and heading west. That would get them to the county, though how they were finding the Count's home he didn't know.

  "To the coast, then head north along it. We should see the lights." George offered from the back, getting word of agreement from the worried Count.

  "Thank you Countier Baker. I'll pay full price for this. Double..." He sounded like he meant it even, which caused a warm feeling to run through Timon's greedy little heart.

  For about a tenth of a second.

  "No, you won't. Ten gold per thousand miles is the rate, half that if the King sends you to me. A gold and five silvers." That got silence from the back, for a few moments, until Abby started speaking.

  "Count Ford, is your wife as... Overly large as you are?" It wasn't said in a rude fashion, despite the word choice. Abby was about the same size that Timon was though, and grew up in a land where anyone six foot tall was a freak of nature.

  Ford was pushing into that realm even for Noram.

  "Ah, no, she's about six-six. Pretty average that way."

  That began a discussion of how large his other children had been, which was, it turned out, the most likely problem. The babies were just too big for the mother. Near fourteen pounds on average. Timon winced at the number, remembering his mother having had problems with Taman, who'd only been seven pounds. That was probably different, since the rest of them had been about the same, more or less.

  It took skill to tell when you were over water at night, since it was a sense of absence more than anything else. He stopped and rotated the craft north, flying about an extra hundred miles that way. It wouldn't count against the fare he decided, because it was his fault, not being able to find the direct route. He really needed to start memorizing some maps. That or drawing his own.