The Builder (The Young Ancients) (30 page)

Sara whispered into the dark then, sounding odd. Nearly scared for a second, though her voice warmed back up to normal as she spoke.

“Different worlds Tor. My mom couldn't afford a war with Sorvee back then. Debri house may be bigger, but constant sabotage eats away at you. I mean, we're all merchants, so it wouldn't come to actual fighting, that's too hard on business for everyone. But stealing contracts, hiring bully boys to damage stock, that kind of thing? Yeah, that could happen. Sometimes it happens anyway, just because, without any provocation at all. So you have to be polite if someone shows interest in you. It's even worse for nobles.” She shrugged and cuddled in a little closer to Rolph.

“It's... Well, no one's required to accept a proposal or an offer of... Um, interest... You know, an invitation to have sex? But if someone shows they like you, you have to be nice about it, no matter how awkward it seems. If they're eight or eighty doesn't matter, you have to be gentle and kind. It's kind of ingrained at our level of society, but you were raised differently, yeah?”

Rolph hugged her, as if trying to keep her warm, which was a bit silly, since they all had amulets for that. The blankets they sat on, soft material that might make a good baby blanket for his new little nieces or nephews when they came, kept them out of the sand, which was nice.

The large man took a deep breath.

“Yeah, but... I think in a lot of ways the rules he grew up with are harder, for all that they sound simple. I mean, when Ursala said that Count Ward was already married and Tor found out that I couldn't, or I don't know, wouldn't maybe, be able to marry her, he offered to step in himself. Didn't even hesitate. Hardly knew her or about her, not even her family connections. He just wouldn't let her go it alone. Even offered to quit school so that he could help us out, open a bakery so we wouldn't go hungry. That was before dad told him about everything. That's... Could you imagine some Duke's son stepping up like that? It about floored my mom you know. Ursala too. I think that if she could marry him, she would have taken the offer even if I'd been willing. Really, she'd probably snag him up now if she could. Probably just as well this happened now, and not in five years or I'd be out right now looking for a new fiancée.” He didn't laugh, but the girls did.

It wasn't harsh laughter, just a chuckle. Trice smiled over at him from where she sat, on the left side of the gray and brown blanket they shared. About three feet away, leaning back on her hands a bit for comfort.

“Bit out of the three steps though.” She said, her voice soft and warm. Her eyes twinkled a little in the fire light.

Rolph snorted, something he did only when he thought someone else was saying something really stupid or dense. He rarely did it with his friends. Tor had only heard it a few times that he'd noticed and never towards the girls. That he did it now caught everyone's attention.

“Trice... Yes, you're right of course, but it was close, well you were there... My parents knew that the Barony of Hyrees sat empty, because they'd researched it already. No one keeps up on the little landless titles like that, especially my parents. If nothing else had been come up with that everyone could agree on, Tor would be the Baron of Hyrees right now. For that matter I'm pretty sure he could get a title from dad right about now anyway, if he asked. That he hasn't even hinted at it is impressing the hell out of my parents too. Everyone hints at getting a free improvement in station with them. Absolutely everyone. Except Smythe of Westend, and now Tor.”

Everyone looked at Tor funny as he started laughing. It bubbled up from inside and wouldn't stop. Him? That was funny! No one else seemed to get it, but... Seriously? He'd be in line for something like that when all the pigs had died out. Maybe. If they didn't start on cows instead in the line of succession. After about a minute he managed to calm the laughter and throw a half handful of sand vaguely towards Rolph for making fun of him.

“I can see it now, in the Council of Lords or whatever it's called.” He told them all, giving a mock half bow. “Good Sir Torrence, are thy pies baked for dessert? And hath thee finished thy mucking out of the royal stables in timely fashion?”

Everyone laughed at that, after Rolph mentioned that no one ever talked like that and besides, bakers were never put to cleaning the stables, because, you know, they touched food. Trice leaned through the two or three feet between them and nudged his shoulder a bit.

“Anyway, back to the topic! The original one, not “the inevitable rise of Lord Tor”. You have to be polite if someone makes an overture, and really, notice if they are. This could be important for you in the future, especially... well, let's just say that the rules you've gotten used to are different in our circle of things. For instance, if you marry well, especially an arranged marriage, you have to understand that your wife will probably have other lovers. Even if she really likes you. Sometimes people get bored, but other times it's just a way of sealing deals or keeping someone close to you. It's her job to make certain all the kids are yours, or at least look right, which is kind of where Ursala really messed up. Ward is dark and has black hair, Rolph lighter and red. No one would have bought it. If it had been the second or third kid, no one would really care, but the future King or Queen? You can see that right?” The fire popped loudly, an explosion of damp wood or a stone in the sand under the fire, everyone jumped.

“So, there's that. Plus, well, it's alright for you to have lovers too. In fact, you'll be expected to most likely. Especially you. If only to show that you mean all the agreements you've gotten yourself into, and to keep people from feeling hurt. It's important for people like you. That's different than in your more... countrified way, isn't it?”

He shrugged. It wasn't so much that things like that didn't happen, but that they had to be kept very secret when they did, and if found out sometimes people would fight, even to the death, over it. So, very different indeed. In Two Bends it had only happened once that Tor remembered in his whole life.

Trice nodded, not looking at him at all, her gaze going towards the fire.

“So if someone, even a married woman, offers herself to you, you have to, you know, be kind about it. Either say yes or at least put her off without harm to her feelings. This is really, really important. Insults mean a lot when people can back things with small armies. Even more when the armies are large.”

“Heh, not that many women will be knocking down my door, so I don't think it will be a real issue at all.” Tor grinned and looked down at his hands. “Seriously, women don't like me that way, I learned that lesson already. I'll just stick to my little devices, and see if my parents can find a girl back home willing to put up with me, if I can, I don't know, provide well enough or something.” Tor threw a twig at the fire, the gesture a little defeated to his eye.

Trice stared at him, shaking her head slightly and Sara sat up, actually breaking out of the Prince's hold to do so. Her look was concerned, as if he'd said something rude or out of turn. Tor hoped not. He had so much to learn about what his new friends thought and how they viewed things. What could he have said though? Did they think that even some poor country girl was too good for him? That... could be. It was a bit of a long shot probably, but if he managed to make good money and get some land, well, women liked that, didn't they? Maybe some livestock to round things out?

The tall blond froze in place, staring at him long enough that Tor started to blush and feel acutely uncomfortable.

“Why on earth would you think that Tor? That's... ridiculous to say the very least!” She seemed very nearly angry at him over it. Tor had to fight not to wince. Ouch. He got ready for a listing of his flaws and tensed a bit, waiting.

Rolph reached over to a small pack he'd brought and pulled out a bottle of wine. “I... know why.” He said, then took time to pop the cork out of the bottle and take a long, healthy swig, passing the bottle on to Sara, who just took a small sip and passed the bottle herself. Tor gave it directly to Trice without even sniffing it, she drank more deeply, staring at him as she did, then looking over at her cousin to get him to keep talking.

Rolph went on, his voice slipping naturally into a storytelling mode.

“Oh I know why indeed, because I was there. I saw it happen, had it burned into my mind. I lived with him when he tried to recover from it. I felt his pain. He thinks that... that he's not good enough for any woman...” He got the bottle back and drank deeply. His breath came out in a slightly shaky sigh after.

“Because of that fucking Doretta.”

Chapter eight

“Who?” Sara asked, sounding scared... or maybe angry, Tor couldn't tell.

What he could tell was that she seemed to know instantly that “Doretta” wasn't the actual name of the girl at all, which had to be true, because Tor had never known a woman by that name in his life. Trice sat up from where she'd been sitting, her eyes going wide.

“Was that... Maria?” Her voice was soft and low, deadly sounding. It reminded Tor that no matter what else these girls might be, rich and pampered things that couldn't even cook a basic meal or probably start a fire without special gadgets or devices, they were both deadly in their own way. They could kick his butt anyway. Dangerous enough for the time being.

The Prince stood all the way up and moved to the other side of the fire so that he could address both girls at the same time.

“Yes.”

He looked at Sara particularly, avoiding Tor's gaze altogether. Probably because now that Tor got what he was referencing, he really didn't want the topic discussed. The most embarrassing moment of his life shouldn't become a fireside tale. Ever, if he had his way in the matter. Apparently he didn't though, since the Prince kept talking.

“It was in our first year, about halfway through. I'd been given a roommate of all things, can you imagine that? Me? One that the dean himself had decided no one would ever expect the heir to be placed with, making the boy nearly perfect in a way. I think I may have also been put with him to learn humility too. I mean, here I was, lord high of the mighty and who was he? Just some little backwoods kid with a fraction of my education, a quarter my size... and about eight times my intelligence. I was a little put out at first, since I'd expected my own room, and personal servants, maybe a spare girl or two brought in a few times a week for comfort and relaxation, not some country boy underfoot all the time. But... after the first day I found that I kind of liked Tor, who seemed smart and kind, even if he did come from a place that I'd never heard of, and talked of baking a little too often... He had a really thick accent then too, which he got rid of in... weeks. It was kind of amazing to watch really.” Rolph smiled.

“Anyway, he decided, at the urging of myself, to ask a girl that he'd noticed in one of his classes to the student party at the beginning of spring. She was a pretty thing, not a grand beauty like either of you, of course, but nice enough looking. I didn't recognize her as peerage and really, what was the worst she'd do when he asked? Tell him she already had a date or let him down easy perhaps? Or, if desperate enough, she might arrange for a friend to go with him instead, which would give him a date at least and after all, he thought he could be interested in her, not that they were true loves, destined to be together for all eternity. He wasn't even trying to get her into bed. How cute and innocent is that? Besides... why would she say no? I really figured that even if she had another date she'd drop the guy and pick Tor instead. Maybe I'm biased because he's my friend but...”

Rolph had both girls staring at him, and milked it for all it was worth, spinning it as if a popular tale rather than the most embarrassing moment of Tor's life. So far anyway.

“So, steeling himself after practicing the right words, coached by me, so you know they were the right ones, I didn't let him go in sounding like a backwoods hick or anything, he approached her after dinner one night, gave her a very nice arrangement of flowers that he'd spent most of the afternoon on, you know how he is with projects, so it was meticulously done, it looked, well, my mother wouldn't have thought twice about receiving such as a gift and would have called it fine, and she can be picky about flowers. It was more than good enough for a school girl. Maybe too good? He could probably make a living doing flower arrangements in the Capital you know, it was that good. Seriously. Elegant. Delightful. Hell, if he'd given it to me I probably would have agreed to go with him to the party. You two probably would have done him in your dorm room without waiting to hear what he was asking for... and really, it's not even an insult to suggest you would, it really was that nice.