Knight Esquire ya-2

by P. S. Power

  Then he used that dirt to make the walls, which went up about eight feet, so that it would look like a proper house from the outside, if little. Not that tiny really, since it was about a fifty foot square at the base, big for one fairly small person.

  Tor had just been comparing the size to the palace of all things. Because that made sense. A hastily constructed mud hut was exactly like that.

  Tor snorted, but kept working.

  The walls went up easily enough. He made them extra stout; because the compressor was preset to make sheets of solid earth about a foot thick. Hard as stone and waterproof, it turned dirt into a good working material, which looked more like fine, shiny stone than mud at least. The door was a bit of a problem, because he didn’t have any wood, or way of making hinges, so Tor formed a hallway that shifted back and forth three times instead. That way no one would just walk in by accident, or see him changing clothes, but it didn’t take any other materials like wood or metal, to make. It would also let air in and out, which was important. The structure was tight at the seams and that could foul things fast if people were breathing inside.

  The roof turned out to be the biggest issue of the day.

  He was able to make thick roof plates easily enough, and it didn’t take long for him to figure out that using a cargo float would work to get it up into place. He had to fly to do it, but only to roof height, so it wasn’t too big of a deal. His still shaky hands were a problem, but by going slow he balanced the huge thing on the top of the slanted roof after only a half dozen or so tries.

  When he turned the float off, tied in place with a pieces of string to the stone, the whole slab slid right off the roof and hit the ground with a huge thud. The impact was so hard that Tor could feel the ground move, even from his position about four feet up in the air. Of course the string broke, letting the plate fall to the ground where it ended up with the whole thing laying on top of it.

  It took about half an hour to get it back in the air, and another hour to figure out that if he put dirt in place on the top of the wall all the way around carefully, he could use the compressor to tack it on before letting the field go and then pack the paper thin seams that were left with dirt and seal those as well. That took most of the morning and a bit of the early afternoon. Then he just had to finish sealing the ridge line of the roof by packing it with dirt several times, building up a smooth, but flat, top line.

  So he had a house now, the shell of one at least. No food and no running water yet, but that could be dealt with, if he hurried. Tor just put the chests inside, emptying his work and clothing chest, and setting all the materials on the ground, then took about twenty gold and tucked it inside his shirt in a small canvas bag. He did make a point of washing up as best he could in the stream before he headed back into the Capital. It wouldn’t do to have people think he was dirty after all. Had to uphold the good name of quasi-fugitive trolls everywhere, didn’t he?

  It was a dark thought, worse, it wasn’t true. He wasn’t that bad looking. He looked like his brothers, who were all fine enough that they got their share of attention in the little village, and his older brother Taler had even managed to find a fairly cute wife. Tor should be about in the same general league, right? Not a troll.

  He tried to tell himself this for a while, but found his thoughts floating back to the fact that he must be, or that he might be stupid, or ugly, or both, and too stupid to know it? Heh, well, he figured, living out here, even if it was just for the time being, meant that there was no one to judge him. Now if he just could to get into town without scaring anyone and get a few supplies it would be fine.

  The flight was uneventful, he landed by the gate they normally came in by, which was the nicest one, near the good neighborhoods, if the ones farthest away from the palace. It wasn’t that Tor was hiding; it was just that he wanted to get established at least to the level of having a real camp, before telling everyone where he was. Some running water, a chair or two. Maybe a nice, thick, defensible wall… Some weapons capable of defending against the King’s army, or a few errant commando squads. That kind of thing.

  His shopping took a long time, not because it was hard to get places, but honestly, he really didn’t know where to find the shops at all. Finally, floating slightly above the ground, wearing his old students uniform Tor had to finally give in and ask an old woman if she knew where he could find the central market.

  She seemed nice enough looking, gray haired, wearing clothing that was dun colored and sturdy, rather than flashy and meant to impress. She was taller than he was, even with the extra four inches the Not-flyer gave him and though she looked at the air under his feet she didn’t comment on it directly, at first. Instead she smiled and winked, then mentioned it.

  “I’m not sure if floating in the air will get you past the military recruiters, but it’s a noble attempt none the less. That must have cost you a pretty penny. Tor-shoes aren’t they? Like the Prince has? I just heard about them yesterday myself. Still, if my recollections of the last war are right, you’d be better off just waiting about a year. They get desperate enough for bodies to fill the ranks against the Austrans and they’ll be willing enough to pretend twelve is a short fourteen.”

  It took an act of will for Tor not to simply sputter at her.

  “Um, I’ve been out of town since last night, but, what? There’s a war? I swear there wasn’t when I left!” Had they gone and messed things up that much already?

  “Oh, well, that would do it. The Austrans haven’t attacked yet, but they declared war last night. Whole kingdoms in an uproar, surprised you haven’t heard about it. Kind of out of the blue too. No “incident” to get things going, just a declaration of their intent to come at us. Guess they got bored again? Anyway, the markets where the main recruiting is going on for the Capital. Makes it a pain to get any shopping done, boys rushing off to die like they are. If you’re wise you’ll take my advice and wait though. No one will think less of you for reaching your growth first.”

  Taking a deep breath Tor tried to figure out what to do. God, a war. He hadn’t even heard that Austra was making moves like that at all. Well, the first thing he needed to do was get with Debri house and make sure they knew to keep up with the military contracts… No. First he needed to talk to Rich and Connie. If they could be spared to talk to him at all. This was no time for him to be running around being needy any more.

  Dropping into a trance he forced himself to relax and put everything that had happened aside. All of it. If they needed him, if he could do anything to be of help, he’d do it. Tor could bake, or run messages if nothing else. True, Smythe wasn’t his best friend right now, but they’d just have to get past their little situation and get to work anyway. If the man wanted to waste his time killing Tor, then he was too stupid to be in charge of the military and while the man wasn’t his buddy, he hadn’t really seemed like a moron. Maybe a bit misguided? Well, they’d deal. It was war after all.

  It took nearly an hour for him to get to the palace, he was making good enough time, way better than he would have in a carriage, but he kept getting lost on the winding streets and had to stop several times when crowds of people holding impromptu rallies to support the troops got in his way. When that happened he just cheered and sang along with the people as he walked through the crowd, if he could understand the words to whatever it was they were singing at all. A lot of the people had gotten drunk already and weren’t exactly chanting words as much as grunting along in rough time with the others. Most were just made up chants about how evil and bad the Austrans were. One of them was actually pretty lewd, and listening to housewives chant about the sexual inadequacy of Austran men made him blush and laugh at the same time.

  Given everything Tor expected trouble at the gate and decided that he’d just camp out as best he could until someone came through that could take word inside for him. Tovey or someone he knew had to come through eventually, and when they did he’d try to get their attention, if anyone was even sp
eaking to him right now. He didn’t think he’d be in trouble, well, maybe a fine for flying inside the city limits, but leaving to protect Connie’s good name probably wasn’t a capital offense yet, even if he hadn’t been given permission to go. The guard eyed him nervously for a second, a younger man, but one that he’d seen before at least.

  “Excuse me, I’m Torrence Baker, Um, Countier four Lairdgren, maybe a Squire still, possibly not, sometimes people call me Tor? Anyway, I know that it’s probably too much to ask to be let in, but would it be possible to get a message to-” Before he could finish the young man smiled and started blowing a whistle. It was a loud thing, enough to hurt his ears and he was standing a good ten feet away. The poor guard must have been doing hearing damage to himself. He made three short, sharp bursts on it.

  “One moment sir,” was all that he said.

  Well, Tor figured that if he’d just called in the military to attack him again, at least the guy was being more polite about it than Smythe had been. While the whistle was off-putting, it wasn’t a sneak attack. Instead of the military in their all black outfits, or even the black and purple of more Royal Guard, Varley ran out of the palace. Actually, she didn’t run at all, she floated over, faster than could have been run in the dress she wore, by about four times.

  “Tor! Good, we didn’t know where you were. There’s a huge meeting, I’m supposed to check people out at the gate. If I don’t know you, you don’t get in. This is Tor, Kevin, he’s all right. He should be the first name on the list?”

  OK’d by a Princess or not, Kevin, the gate guard, checked the papers in his little guard shack and nodded. “Yes, Princess Veronica, he’s right here; Torrence Baker, Tor, Countier four Lairdgren, Squire of Kolbrin, Troll of Galasia, ambassador pro-tem Afrak. With a note that says I shouldn’t point out how short or young he looks or imply that he looks younger than his stated age of seventeen, even though he clearly does. Please come in sir.” The guard smiled at him.

  Tor stuck his tongue out at the man, who actually chuckled at the move.

  His empty trunk following him, he floated alongside Varley, getting her to go a little bit slower than they could have so that he could ask questions. She answered quickly, her voice sharp but not unkind.

  “Um, you’re just the ambassador pro-tem, basically that means “for now”. That way you can go and set up the rivers and things you promised without needing anyone else to guide you around from here. It saves on people and really, I think dad kind of wants to stuff a young looking boy down their throats that they’ll have to be polite, too. They have some trouble with men being in power at all there.” Varley smiled at him.

  “And the Troll of Galasia crack?” He asked, walking quickly, giving her a sideways glance.

  She just shrugged.

  “Sounds like something Alphie would have put in, doesn’t it? I’ve heard worse nicknames though. Makes you sound kind of manly, doesn’t it? I’ll take you to the meeting room. Everyone else, our people here, are already in there making preparations. Well, that and bickering about things. I can’t go in with you. I mean I could, no one would stop me, but I won’t. No one will listen to me and sitting there trying to take notes on what people are arguing about is boring. If you need me I’ll be sitting by the front door with a book.”

  She leaned in and tried to kiss him on the cheek, but was blocked by the shield he had turned on. “You know Tor, it makes it a lot harder to connect with people if you live behind a shield all the time. Things aren’t that dangerous. We have guards and walls you know.” Her delicate arms crossed over her small chest, which, Tor noticed absently, wasn’t all that small any more. The girl wasn’t just getting taller, but starting to fill out. She flipped her long auburn hair back slightly and gave him a look that had to be a impersonation of her mother. If it wasn’t then she really needed to get out of the palace more often, because it was almost eerily good.

  Tor stuck out his tongue and laughed.

  “Really, you should wear your own shield all the time right now, yes, except when you want to kiss someone, I suppose. But I’ve found that having a shield but not using it is about the same as being kicked down stone steps from behind.” That Trice may have done that, well, he managed to keep the tears from his eyes at least. Right, there was a war. No worrying about her right now.

  Varley chuckled and raised her eyebrows at him, then winked.

  “Alright, I’ll wear my shield more, if you’ll drop yours when I want to kiss you. Deal?” She smiled and tapped her foot impatiently.

  “Um, sure?”

  Gesturing at him, she waited for him to drop his shield and then kissed him on the lips for about half a minute. He blinked. It was a good kiss, if incredibly improper. She did slap on her own shield when she finished at least, giggling a bit. Blushing he walked through the council chamber door without saying anything after getting his own shield on.

  Stone steps and all that, he reminded himself.

  The door was heavy, thick wood that was carved with a series of rectangles and stained a flat brown color. In this building where almost everything was a piece of art, this single door looked almost plain. That probably served to show how important it really was. The door handle was iron, pitted with use and age. It turned with a creak and he had to muscle the door open a little. Before it was all the way open Tor double checked to make certain his shield was on, focusing on the field pattern itself so that he wouldn’t risk shutting it off by mistake. He didn’t really know what to expect on the other side after all.

  It was chaos.

  Or at least the slightly raised voices that could be heard before the door opened were a lot louder. No one was fighting physically, yet, but there was finger pointing and accusations of unpatriotic sentiment. Richard sat at the head of the table with Rolph to his right hand side and the Queen to his left, all looking pretty regal. That made sense, it being in their job description. They’d all probably had lessons in it. Next to Rolph, in a dress too pretty for the room, sat Karina. Her face wasn’t bored, actually managing to look engaged for once, making good eye contact with one of the large, scary men that sat around yelling. He wasn’t a good looking fellow particularly, huge, shaggy bearded, dark, ferocious and rather emphatic as he pointed at a map.

  “Here! It’s isolated, close enough to the Capital for troops to be summoned in an emergency, but far enough away that no one will worry about a military take over. It’s the perfect spot!” The place on the map was about fifty miles closer to the Capital than where his little house was, but almost lined up with it otherwise.

  What it was the perfect spot for, Tor couldn’t tell from the shouting at first. It sounded like something minor enough, a training base for the military flyer corps. That there was a flyer corps at all was news to him. It probably was a good place for the base, open and with few trees for novice recruits to crash into, except that some things would be hard to come by there. He walked over and pointed to the map, about thirty miles to the right of where the man had been indicating originally.

  “Here. There’s water for one thing. You’ll still have to ship in all your food of course, but you can harden the soil into a holding tank with a run off, so the local area won’t suffer from too much loss of water if you’re careful. The soil works with the compaction process well enough. I was just out here,” He pointed over and up by the little stream he’d built next to which didn’t even show on the brittle looking brown paper.

  “Yesterday and today working with it. I used excavators to make a small cabin, earlier today.”

  Tor snorted loudly and shook his head.

  “Of course half of the time it took was because I didn’t know how to put the roof on. More than half really. I don’t know who owns the land, but hopefully they won’t mind a new cabin, because I don’t think it’s going anywhere for a while. It’s at least as hard as stone.”

  The man stared at Tor for about fifteen seconds, far too long to be comfortable. Then he reached over to the map and slid
the green marker over near the river were Tor had pointed.

  “Good point, water. So here then.” His voice had calmed down a lot once someone else in the room seemed to be supporting him at least a little.

  The Prince looked forward and nodded.

  “I own all that area, pretty much a wasteland, but if you want to use it for a base, that’s no big problem. No trees for building materials… you tried out the system that uses dirt, and turns it into stone you say?” Rolph had seen the excavators and compactors already, even played with them a little, so Tor figured that this restatement of what he’d just said must be for someone else’s benefit. Possibly everyone else, he realized. Why would they know about it at all yet?

  Around the people there were sixteen other people, some of them he recognized, Like Counts Ford and Rodriguez. Count Derring sat across the table; a huge oval thing made of real wood that must have been the roughest hewn thing in the whole palace. If it had even been sanded at any point it would have been a surprise and by the cut marks in the wood, real metal tools had been used in its making, not cutters. Either incredibly old or a reconstruction piece worth thousands of gold.

  A few people he knew and a lot he didn’t. Tovey gave him a short nod, encouraging him to speak about the building he’d been doing? It seemed a strange topic for a war council but if that’s what they wanted…

  For some reason Burks, the servant from the guest house that had been so helpful to him, also sat at the table. Maybe he was there to run errands or something? If so, they couldn’t get a more reliable person for the task.