The Builder (The Young Ancients) (19 page)

Suspicious without a doubt.

The guards, whose leader introducing himself as Captain Curtis, guided them to the main gate easily. They obviously had gotten to fly about as much as anyone from the way they handled themselves. Out of this group Tor realized that he was the one that probably had the least time in the air. Well, maybe he'd get a little time while on break to practice? If nothing else he'd already gotten a full day's worth, which was better than nothing. On the ground they had to wait for a carriage or something to come they were told, since strictly speaking, flying had been forbidden in the city.

Curtis the guard looked at them, standing straight and looked from Rolph to Tovey several times. “Accidents sir. The King himself laid the restriction.”

Rolph shrugged and turned to Tor.

“No big thing, we can hire a cab to take us around. Maybe we can signal for one from here?”

They didn't have to, it turned out, since not one but three had already been called up for them by someone that had seen them flying in. One for the people and two for all the trunks. That kind of made sense, because anyone flying in would need transportation, wouldn't they? They could have stacked all the trunks in one, nothing they had was that heavy, but apparently people didn't do that in the Capital. It wasn't seemly. Right, well Tor didn't want to look like a bumpkin either, so he just nodded and hoped the cabs wouldn't cost too much for the hire.

It was hot here, blistering even in the shade, nearly the worse heat he'd ever felt not standing next to an oven. No one else seemed to mind it at all, so Tor didn't mention it, but they all started to soak through their clothing too. So at least they didn't have some inborn immunity to it. After a long time, almost an hour which felt longer, they pulled up a long paved drive to a house that was bigger than any private dwelling he'd ever seen. It was closer in size to some of the larger school dorms.

“This isn't my main residence, which is in my district of course. This is just the third place, for when we have to meet down here for the fall conferences. I must say Tor, flying this distance beats the pants off of driving it. I'm almost certain that many of the peers will want to try it as soon as they hear how much faster and pleasant it is.”

He led them inside to see if he could scare up some refreshments for them all. The servants blushed and scurried. Apparently they hadn't expected Tovey back for over a week at least, possibly a lot longer than that. They didn't have anything special prepared for guests at all, which seemed like some kind of a big deal to the poor guy that had to tell them. The Count looked embarrassed too, but Tor just shrugged.

“Some cool water would be good. No need to stress these people out just because I insisted we all fly. My fault after all, right? All the way around really... How were they supposed to know?” The servant in the room, a man in gray clothes, nicer than anything Tor owned, didn't nod, but he looked grateful that this had been pointed out. Hopefully the Count wouldn't blame these people. It really had been his fault; after all, Tor had invented the devices to begin with. Or, if they wanted they could all blame Kolb, but that still didn't free up Tor for assuming they'd be traveling that way.

The water came without anyone leaving the room to fetch it. It even had ice in it, which in this climate must be hard to come by, and expensive to keep on hand. Tor felt his mind start to drift. Could they use a field that removed heat from a small area, insulated with rock like an oven, in order to create real freezing conditions? Heck, couple it with an oven and you should be able to kill two birds with one stone. He basically had the field already, the temperature plates; all he had to do was figure out how he wanted to manage it all. Maybe he could try it later, if anyone had some boxes or something he could use.

Trice stood in front of him smiling and talking, so he decided to pay attention before she hit him. Tor still had his shield on at least. It was one of the new ones that could breathe underwater and made it a lot harder to choke or suffocate him. That wouldn't stop the girl from trying if she took the idea into her head. He wondered if all female nobles were as violently oriented as she was. His sisters were all meek by comparison and they'd known him all their lives, so you'd think if anyone were going to hit him, it would have been one of them, but Trice apparently didn't think her behavior towards him was odd.

She didn't try to hit Rolph or Tovey like that.

It did fit his rule of not getting into a fight with someone bigger than you are though, maybe it was just that?

“So we should get to our own dwellings. Remember, Debri house tomorrow for luncheon, which is mid-afternoon here, Tor. Rolph will get you there on time. Don't be late.” The girl smiled at him and patted the back of his hand, which she had to take in her own in order to do, slippery as it was from the shield. It felt awkward to him, her touching him like that, not really making contact at all, not unpleasant, just strange. It was a mental thing he knew. The implied contact with a pretty girl being off putting, not the way it felt through the shield which was just like his hand moved on its own a little.

Rolph and he reloaded one of the carriages with their trunks and arranged the other two for the girls without being asked. Just as they finished several house servants boiled out of the Count's dwelling looking mortified.

“Sir! We...” He looked down at the ground, clearly ashamed.

Why Tor couldn't get at all.

Rolph finished for the man. “You... don't need to be out in this heat? Thanks for thinking of us though. It looks like we've got this in hand. Now, back inside, out of the sun.” Rolph smiled and gestured a little with his left hand. The man went as if the gentle suggestion was a command. All of them did, practically running to get back inside. Tor couldn't blame them, this heat was damned oppressive. It made him wonder why they'd put the Capital here in the first place. He didn't ask out loud, not wanting to insult his friends since this was their home, at least for Rolph and Sara. It hadn't been their idea, since the Capital had stood here for hundreds of years at least.

Trice patted his arm and climbed in her carriage to be led away. Sara stopped for a second and stood by, watching them leave with a small grin. Then she got in her own carriage, from the window she shouted out that Tor should come with any new ideas he had too.

As if he wouldn't? Didn't she know him at all by now? He smiled at her and waved as the gold and white carriage moved away slowly.

The drive to Rolph's house took a lot longer, almost two hours. They had to wind back and forth along several streets before they got to the back of a walled compound. Inside the tall brilliantly white wall, which stretched up about thirty feet, he could see a large house and then, off in the distance, a much bigger building. Huge in fact. Bigger than all the school buildings put together. He was feeling over awed when Rolph shrugged and pointed at the smaller one.

“Our stop. Don't let that big thing fool you, that's for the important people, you and I should have this to ourselves, I think, unless there are other guests. We'll have dinners here, most of the time; my mother wants to come the first night to welcome you, tonight. If that's alright? We could beg off, if you're too tired, but I haven't seen her in a while. Dad may or may not come. He gets busy, you know?”

Rolph led them into the smaller house, a dwelling nicer even than what the Count had, if not as big. The inside had wooden walls; hand carved out of something dark and polished to gleaming. The floors a highly polished marble with throw rugs all over the place. The furniture was even more impressive. It looked nice and new, but felt old when he touched it with his mind, like it had been around longer than the rest of the building. A lot longer. Someone had spent money on this place. Too much for what was essentially a simple dwelling.

That wouldn't stop him from sleeping in it, just from being comfortable while he did. He'd thought the school had nice rooms, but compared to this, what Rolph was used to, they might as well been putting them off in the barn to sleep with the horses. The bed in the room he was shown to was bigger than both the beds at the school if they were pushed together. The room was about four times bigger and done all in white. He was almost afraid that if he touched something it would leave a stain. He'd have to get a bath as soon as possible, he decided. The idea of actually coming in contact with anything here, as dirty as he undoubtedly was, terrified him. Not real terror maybe, but close enough. Looking around carefully Tor wondered if he should try flying over the floor instead of walking. He let that go when a vision of trashing the place came into his head and didn't leave. Him smashing first into one wall and then another on an uncontrolled rebound, leaving huge holes. Instead he just didn't let himself make contact with anything if he could help it.

In a chamber off the bedroom itself Tor found a tub, a giant tan ceramic thing, with a spigot that released water that while not exactly warm was at least no colder than the air. Since even inside it was pretty warm, that was more than good enough. Hoping that no one would mind overly he started filling the tub. It made a sloshing sound as the water entered, probably from a cistern on the roof, which would explain why it was as warm as it was. Just in case someone had to fill that tank by hand he stopped the water about a tenth of the way up the tub and climbed in. The shallow water didn't cover his legs, but the tub was long, built for people that obviously made him look like a tiny child. Given how big Rolph was, that was probably the literal case.

A covered dish next to the bath had a small tub of soft perfumed soap. It smelled of lavender and some kind of citrus fruit. Nice. Not very manly but he figured that no one would be going around sniffing him anyway, and if they did, flowers would be more pleasant than sour sweat. He scrubbed up efficiently, hitting under his arms a dozen times with small handfuls of the soft soap. It didn't seem to have a lye base, so he'd have to use a lot more effort to get clean than he would have at home, Tor realized. Here, it seemed, washing was more a matter of elbow grease than chemical action.

Half an hour later he felt clean enough to get out without being overly ashamed of his state. Tor carefully ran the small comb he'd brought through his short damp hair. Kolb had ordered him to keep it cut in his first year at the school and he had ever since. No one sane wanted to argue with Kolb after all. Tor was glad of it now, as the heat, dry as it was, left him sticky again the second he stepped out of the tan ceramic vessel. He dried carefully with one of the soft and huge towels hanging on the rack on the wall, not wanting to track water around, and walked into his room. He'd forgotten his clothes, of course, so he padded back into the big bedroom naked. His trunk had been brought in, meaning all he had to do was grab a clean pair of student browns from the bottom, and he'd be set.

His hand brushed a metal plate, the bottom of the trunk being filled with them of course and he nearly had to hit himself in the head. Duh. He had at least twenty of the “temperature control plates”, what Sara had started calling the heat and cold exchangers, sitting right there.

It was too warm?

He could fix that.

Shirt still off he walked one of the small copper plates to the nice table set up across the room, as big as the dining tables at the school, meant for ten to eat at a time, but about a thousand times nicer, with a soft green cloth on the top. The cloth was there to either protect the wood or stop him from seeing scratches underneath. Either way it looked good, very fine. The copper piece was nice enough on it too, so no one would probably mind. Green and copper went together, right? He hit the cooling sigil and waited with his eyes closed.

Relief poured into the room. Blessed cool. He sighed and felt content for a moment. When he opened his eyes he found a woman standing at the door to the room, her hands folded across her front delicately fingers laced and palms up. She wasn't great looking, one of those girls that would at best manage cute their whole lives rather than fantastically pretty. Not that looks mattered that much. Nice always counted a lot more after all, and smart almost as much. Good looking was fourth or fifth on Tor's personal list of things important for a woman. Maybe lower if he really bothered to ever count it all up.

Her red hair was long, and she had slightly dusky skin compared to Rolph, who redhead or not was at least three shades darker than Tor ever was. Her skin being deeply tan was probably just from the more intense sun here than back at the school. Her face was covered in freckles, which added to the innocent cuteness at least. When she saw him looking her face lit up.

“Why, you're not Alphie at all, are you? Sorry to catch you dressing like this...” She gestured at his bare chest.