by P. S. Power
Right alongside of his place he set up a second one. Getting water was a problem, since he didn't have a copy of a pump at all. The place might not count without it as a real home. Not with his parents at least.
"Fine, build one. You're a builder too... don't let that kind of thing stop you." It was a scary idea, since he couldn't afford the time off to do it. Not with only a day before he needed to be in Two Bends to get Tiera for school.
After putting his few belongings in the main house, he sat on the front walk and waited, since the fee collectors should be out, according to what Collette had told him. It was the lady herself that found him first, shaking her head a bit as she walked toward him, wearing a pink tunic and pants, along with what looked like a big Warden style straw hat.
"You made me fly all the way back here the hard way, losing yourself in a work trance like that." She grinned anyway, not sounding too put out and looked at his house, which was practically a hut compared to the giant palace next door.
Looking at it Timon saw the statement it made. His brother was big and important, flashy and incredible and here he was riding his work and effort. Even with that edge he was barely able to be seen at all. A tiny shadow dancing humbly in the shade created by a mountain.
The woman looked impressed anyway.
"Not bad work. I can't make a copy at all. I've tried. Alyssa can, but only one at a time. She's planning on studying that at Lairdgren this year. Have you thought about doing that? I mean, they'd let you in there and with your grandfather the Count owning it, they'd have to either waive the fee or at least let you in on credit." She glanced at the place again and shook her head. "No one has come in to any school being able to do this. Even if you don't want to build, maybe learn history, or languages to help your business, it's an idea. It's the noble way, getting our families to pay for everything."
He shook his head and let out a huff of air.
"I... don't want to be Tor the lesser. I can see it happening already. I've been to strange and distant lands and had people be impressed that I'm his brother. I'm proud of him and all he's done, but I'm not him. I need to make my own way, somehow. It isn't about this." Waving at the house and then the palace next to it, he froze. "Only it is, isn't it? If it were just the others, Teral and Todd, even Tamerlane for all she's a Countess, no one would really care. I can match that, maybe. Become a businessman myself and people won't care that my oldest brother has his own bakery, or that the others married well. I can do that. What I can't do is be a bright and shining star that can match the freaking second sun that Tor already is. No matter what I do, I don't think it will ever be enough to be seen as more than 'Tor's brother'. Worse, that's ungrateful and petty of me. I really am proud of him. I just don't want to live in the shade on the dark half of the sun forever. Never really good enough, no matter what I do."
The woman chuckled a little and sat down on the ground next to him, not speaking for a while, finally she patted his shoulder gently and smiled sweetly. It was a little patronizing.
"Maybe. If it were anyone else I'd tell you to just do a bit better, or to even just not worry about it. You have to be yourself after all. Tor is..." She started to say special, Timon was certain, but then made a face. "Difficult. Vexing, and sometimes a pain in the rear. He can't understand the people around him and simple social things baffle him as often as not. He's loved and respected, thousands would die for him at need, but I don't know that he feels it at all. Do you know how many times I've heard him talk about running off and being a baker somewhere? Or a fisherman. Anything but the life he has. Maybe that's where you can be different. Better even. Be happy Timon. Oh, be good and helpful and wonderful, but also enjoy life, when you can." There was a shrug then, a move that spoke of close association with the Ancients. Probably just Tor. He did that all the time. Green too, as well as Denno.
Making a face he hoped wasn't too unpleasant he let out a big gust of air and stood. There was a wagon headed toward them after all, and it would be best to meet it on his feet.
"That's as good as anything, I guess. Well, I'm not the first to deal with a successful older sibling and won't be the last. Poor Taman. She's turning six this year and has to deal with all of us going first."
They waited for the fee collector, who looked at the set up and seemed confused at first. Finally the man, who had a tidy silver beard and a bald head, got down from the wagon and walked over to Collette. She just smiled and gestured at Tim, not saying anything.
"Two lots please. For a year. One is a residence the other a guest house. I do get a discount for paying that far in advance, don't I?" He smiled at the man, doubting it was something you could haggle over at all.
The older man, his face seemed like leather, actually nodded.
"For two lots, which gives you a lot of space on either side... I'll walk it with you, it's approximate, so anyone coming in might be nearer the line than you like, or even over it. No fighting about it. Most won't bother someone that has places like this... Proper houses, aren't they? If you can pay the year in advance it will be ten gold even, instead of ten and four. That will also save you from any increases in rate for that time. Course, if the King lowers the fee, you lose out. That won't happen, so it's worth the gain and protection." He spoke evenly, as if to an adult, even though he seemed to be a little less than sure Timon had the coin.
He did, and more than that, thanks to Count Ward and his bonus. That extra was four gold, but he paid full rate for himself and his wife, which was thirty-eight in all. For a few hours work. Not enough for school, but he was really close. Less so when he counted the coin to the man and handed him a small cloth carrying bag for it. That was the polite noble way. You provided a way to move the payment. The nicer the material, the more important you were saying the whole thing was to you personally. A canvas sack was what you paid a workman with. A craftsman or musician you liked would have velvet and so on. To give a payment wrapped in silk was the highest compliment possible.
This little sack was velvet. He didn't want to insult the man, or worse, the King, so he upgraded it. He was given a written receipt for the year and the area was a good bit larger than he'd figured, when they walked it. Big enough for him to put in a garden. Once he had water.
How he was supposed to get that done by the next day Timon didn't know. Finally, as the fee collector drove away, his two horses moving slowly, one a nice looking gray and the other a bay that looked pretty old, he finally just asked Collette. Surprisingly she just nodded at him when he explained why he wanted a water pump.
"I just happen to have one. I can rent it too you for a few weeks, until you can get time to make a copy for yourself. That way you can honestly tell everyone that you have a real place, that you've paid for yourself. I don't know if that will meet your parents rules, but it can't hurt." He blinked and then hugged the woman.
"Thank you! A silver a month? I can go higher than that, if you need." It wasn't great bargaining, but even the rent on magic was high, he knew.
"Deal. I'll go and get that now. You should have a sign made too. Otherwise people will keep coming to my door in the middle of the night to see if they can hire you. There have been six already. That and see if the King will let you have one of the remaining units for the communications devices. Tor said there were some left at least."
It took a few hours to get the water up and running, because there was an emergency at the ice manufactory. It wasn't a big issue, just a Baron that wanted a delivery as fast as possible. The problem there was that the man was a pain to deal with and kept screaming at everyone. He'd ridden a horse to get the ice, but clearly needed more than he could possibly carry. It would have been just plain stupid of him, except that normally there really were wagons available for the purpose. They were just all out at the moment though.
"I need this now! I have guests coming in a few hours and they are very influential people. We, my lady wife and I, we promised their daughter frozen cream and berries. A very important
treaty could be riding on this! I demand you help me! Now!" The only saving grace was that the man sounded so exasperated the speech avoided being abusive. Entitled and annoying, but not actually the man trying to strong arm them. It wouldn't have worked anyway. There just wasn't a wagon available. It wasn't anyone ignoring his plight really, they just didn't have a way to help.
Timon shrugged.
"I'll help you with the delivery, just this once. You have to pay for it. A silver for the trip. I need very exact directions to your home too. I'll have it there before you can make it back." It wasn't allowed to fly inside the city walls, but landing was given a bit of leeway. At least at the palace. If he could settle straight down in the man's yard or the street in front of him, going slowly enough, perhaps it would be excusable?
The ice workers shook their heads, until he had the Fast Carriage out. When it appeared the man stepped back at least, and bowed.
"Are you Countier Baker then?" The man was very pleased by the idea, which made Tim feel pretty good. That he'd been recognized was amazing.
Until he started speaking again.
"To think! Ice delivered by the Wizard Tor himself!"
Sighing Timon stared at the man hard, his brown eyes blank. Eventually the Baron, a man named Fell, stopped talking.
"My brother. I'm Timon Baker. I own the fast transport service. Which is how we're taking your ice. For the cheap price of only two silvers." Crossing his arms he waited for the man to protest or to start yelling again. Instead he bowed decently low and smiled, a lot more charmingly than before.
"Ah! Even better. Wizards scare me a little. Yes, two silvers... Would you be available for one of those tours I've been hearing about soon? If I could arrange one of those... Well, may I call on you for a discussion of such a thing? In a few days perhaps? I really do need that ice. If I can't deliver on my claims then my word will be in doubt. You understand how that goes?"
Smiling Timon nodded. He really could.
"Fine. Just the one silver then. I'm going to be in and out a lot... Would the morning after next suit you? I have a delivery to make to Austra. Some friends of mine are running a restaurant and need supplies. It will have to be early." At least it would if he wanted to get there and back in one day.
"That would be very good. Most excellent." Then Baron Fell described his dwelling in great detail. It was along the west wall, near the good section, but not, unfortunately, directly in it. That showed he was a man of wealth, and even though he was tall and thin, with a face that looked like he might be twitchy, he spoke well. Smoothly and with a calm air. It was smarmy though. Too sly and slick to be real, even as he gave information that would get Timon to do what he was requesting.
Dropping the load of frozen water off took a lot more work than most deliveries did. Instead of helping him unload, the kitchen man stared at him for several seconds as if he was a moron. He hadn't come to the wrong door or anything even. The man was just upset that the product wasn't already in chunks. Some of the drivers could be bribed for an extra penny to break the whole thing up it seemed. Which Timon was actually willing to do for the man, as part of the service. For free even. The fellow just didn't think he could do it in time to start the freezing for the cream.
"Ah. Where do you want it?" That, it turned out, was a special little room on the first floor, not too far from the kitchen that had a drain in the center of the brickwork. It was nicely polished, the whole thing clean and tidy looking.
They didn't help him move the ice at all, so it did take a few minutes. More than a bit of time actually. There were twenty blocks, which was a lot more than was needed for frozen cream. They didn't even have a hand cranked machine for it. That and they wanted it in chunks. There was a clear time schedule, so Timon put on his Not-flyer and triggered his shield. By moving at the ice fast, it drove it away from him. By angling carefully the whole mess was in pieces no large than his hand after about five minutes of this treatment. The thin kitchen man in his fussy red and blue outfit looked slightly scared, rather than pleased.
Probably for not helping him move the stuff, so he could be done sooner. If so that was on him however, not Tim.
The Baron had paid him in advance, trusting that he'd get the job done it seemed, which was good, since even with half an hour of working and unloading cargo the man wasn't back to his home when Tim left. It was a strange thing, wasn't it? Who needed such large amounts of ice? What could you do with it? Hold large amounts of meat, or bodies? Make a huge amount of frozen treats for company? Or show that you simply had the pull to do it. That might be the real issue, he knew. Nobles were strange that way and often did things to show their worth to others that didn't make a whole lot of sense.
Regardless, it wasn't his business. Timon reminded himself not to ask questions, just take the money and do the work.
He headed home to hook his water up, so that it would be acceptable to everyone. The term hit him suddenly. It was his. A place made by his own hand, where he had the land for a whole year and no one could boss him around. Except the King, other nobles with higher rank, or possibly his family. That last part was the one he needed to stop. How could he though?
There was one answer. Get a job going for someone powerful enough that even his mother and father wouldn't tell him he couldn't do it. That or he'd have to leave the Kingdom altogether. He sighed to himself and just stood for a little while, looking at the flow of water moving into his house. A place just for him.
The problem with being an adult, he quickly found, was that he couldn't ask anyone else for food on most days. Just as he was about to go and find an open food stall or shop in the city, or even a restaurant, a woman walked toward him, looking... Incredibly angry.
"I'll kill him!" She screamed, louder than was polite for a woman of her years, which looked to be about fifty, and her station, which from her clothing, and pure size, looked to be better than average. She wasn't anyone he recognized, so even if she was looking at him, that death threat wasn't aimed at him personally. That was good, since he really needed to get some food inside him. Being dead would stop that. With all the travel and running from place to place he'd been losing a little weight, he thought.
The lady in front of him screamed again, a bellow that spoke of rage, but not emotional pain. Probably not a broken heart then. Still, she was red already and starting to turn white. Signs of combat rage. She might try to kill him for the crime of being to hand if he wasn't careful.
"Are you well ma'am?" Timon didn't bother walking toward her. If she was going to come for him, she was going to have to do the work. It sounded like a plan at least, until, panting, she gave him a smile.
It was not a pleasant thing. It held a coldness and rage that he doubted he'd survive, if it were pointed at him. She was a giantess, but an average one, only about six-six or so. Clearly a noble, and also one that didn't seem precisely sane at the moment.
"I am not someone to easily cast aside! Not without more than a note that says only that my services won't be needed! What am I, some back alley whore given two coppers to kneel and serve?" She opened her mouth and mimed what she meant, in case he didn't get it. He'd never seen that particular act done, but he had seen some pictures that showed how it was achieved, as well as some statues in the "house" at Wildlands Station. He'd delivered some packages there a few times.
He shook his head then, hoping that was close to the right thing to do. It seemed his original sense that this wasn't an affair of the heart might be wrong.
"No. You definitely aren't that. May I ask your name Lady?" That was a decently polite thing to say. He thought so anyway.
She stiffened and snorted, her rage making her words stiff and angry.
"I'm Duchess Keene. Is this near where the fast transport concern is? I've been all over today, trying to book passage or rent a carriage, no one will aid me. I went to the King and the fool told me to walk out here and beg aid. If I can't make it back to my lands within the week, half of what I hold mi
ght well be overrun by a faithless buffoon that thinks my only power is a piece of paper. Count Holder seeks to make himself something different than his station. Until it comes to blows the King may not aid me. I have forces and can call on the other Counts of my Duchy in a case such as this." There was a low growl from the woman then, a thing that sent chills down his spine and promised that Count Holder, whoever he was, wouldn't likely live through the night, if she could find him. "My services are no longer needed? Indeed?"
That made a kind of sense, once she told him the problem. Dukes and Duchesses held the lands of several Counts each, normally five. It was pretty much a ceremonial title now though. She was powerful, but in real terms she didn't have much of an army. Any of her Counts could match her, unless she had the aid of the others. In social rank he actually matched her, or nearly enough that no one would care who sat above who at the table.
Timon tapped the coin in his pocket, hoping it was enough for them both to eat. If he was supposed to help her get home and the King had sent her begging, that probably meant he wasn't going to be paid for it.
"I need to eat something, would you care to join me? Before we go to your Duchy I mean? I take it you'll also need me to get you to those other Counts in their places too?" He could do that. If he didn't sleep at least and they didn't take long. If they did, well, he had a promise to keep. "Tomorrow I have to take my older sister to the school at Lairdgren. My grandfather the Count owns it. So it will look bad if she's late. Plus, she wants to make an entrance. Understood, that isn't as pressing as your own concern, but I gave my word already." He affected a shrug of his own, not knowing what she'd say. There was a chance it would be screaming, or annoyance. Even an attack, given her delicate state, so close to losing all control.