The Builder (The Young Ancients) (41 page)

No one looked at him directly when he came in, but a hush crossed the room. Winchester, the man he'd fought with, if hitting a person from behind and then letting them beat you counted as a fight, walked across the room towards him, which made several others move at the same time, closing on the point where they'd meet near the door, since the Duke walked fast and Tor hobbled slowly. The metal splint slowing him down a lot, not just his short legs.

Count Thomson got there at about the same time they met, as well as an older, very distinguished giant of a man that must have had six inches in height on the King and nearly that much extra across the shoulders. They clearly expected trouble, but instead of lashing out the Duke went to one knee and bowed his head rather humbly.

“Forgive me.” He said simply as if Tor was someone to ask forgiveness of.

Tor bowed back, not going as low, because of the splint. He didn’t kneel either.

“Sure. It wasn't a personal thing, no reason for us not to be friends, right? Things like this can happen, and there are no debts between friends after all. So nothing to worry about there, right? But...” Looking around he couldn't see the woman, Lady Priscilla at all. She might have been hiding or taken away to safety already, given her ordeal. “Really, it's not my forgiveness that should mean anything to you right now, and that isn't an issue at all, since we’re friends. If you haven't taken care of the other matter already at least I mean?” Tor didn’t say it loudly, not trying to embarrass the man if he’d forgotten to do that first. A few people could hear him, obviously, but at least the people across the room wouldn’t.

The man stood and bowed low, his eyes still downcast.

“I'll see to that directly.” He said it as if it were an order instead of a friendly suggestion from some guy he probably had every reason to hate at the moment. Then the man stood straight and held his own head high again, and turned away, presumably to go and see to the other apologies he needed to make.

The larger man looked satisfied for some reason and took a half step back, so that he wasn't looming over Tor by as much. He still loomed, but probably couldn't help it, not and still be in conversational range at all. The man put his hand out, a thing so big that Tor felt like a five year old trying to shake his hand. It made him smile. Dwarfing him or not, the huge man was trying to meet his countrified ways to set him at ease. Everyone else just bowed here as a rule, so this man was going out of his way to be kind and polite.

“Count Ford. I wanted to come and thank you personally for all your help. That river you created... No one has ever even heard of the like, not even in the time of legend. And I spoke to the Queen earlier; she said that you already have plans for a relief effort to make up part of the lost crops in my county? And that you're doing it at the expense of yet further work on your part without expectation of reward? I... I'm humbled and touched. Thank you sir. If you ever need anything that I or my people can provide, anything at all, please let me know and it will happen.”

Tor thanked him and tried to not blush under the praise, making sure he didn't duck his head bashfully.

“But really, all this praise should be going to the King, since he was the one that made it happen. I'm just glad I was around to help.” This got a nod from the Count who moved off to thank the King personally he said, his voice cheerful enough about it.

He lasted for another few hours, making sure he didn't leave until the Queen told him it was alright to. Tor still couldn't really think, so he trusted in her to get him where he needed to go and kept trying to smile and be polite when people talked to him. Trice hovered close behind him, softly touching his shoulder every few minutes to get him to turn and talk to some new person or other. They passed in front of him in a way that he knew meant that he'd never remember all of them later. Finally when Connie gave him a wink and told him he'd done well, Trice walked him back to his room and left him at the door with a sad little kiss on the cheek.

He smiled. Yeah, sure, he'd probably looked like a moron, but at least he wasn't being executed for some reason. Being daring he suddenly hugged her and kissed her back. Just on the cheek, but it made her smiled.

“I haven't forgotten what I said earlier...” She told him. Then she turned and left before he could get that clarified.

Did she mean the teasing about getting married or that she'd promised to tell him why she was so sad and distracted? Both maybe. It was a stupid idea, him even asking to marry her for real, but it was more fun, if he was just going to be pretending for now. Tor decided to go with that one just for the moment. Chuckling a little to himself he realized that she'd be Trice Baker. Back home it would come out as “S'treeze Baky” which would actually make her sound almost like one of his sisters. He'd have to start calling her Patricia, he decided. At least at home. Then maybe not. It would come out as “Pas'treeze Baky” Pastries Baker. It was a cute name, but might confuse people as to her profession.

When he got back to his room he had to have Burks help him undress, that or risk damaging the clothing just to get it off and then fell into bed wearing nothing but a few amulets and some underclothes. Tor couldn't have stayed awake if his life depended on it. No dreams came, just sleep. Thankfully.

The next day Tor felt like someone had drugged him, his head full, stuffed to the brim, apparently with hard packed, throbbing wool, and he could hardly move at all, sore like he used to be after exercising before he got in any kind of shape. He made himself get up and move, if painfully. Bathed, with help from Burks, shaved and changed into a new pair of loose silk clothing. He stumbled out to the little dining room he'd been told breakfast was waiting in. Burks had a little smile on his face when he said the words, but then again the man was always pleasant.

There he found several people sipping at cups of tea or something like it, apparently waiting for their own breakfasts. There were enough people that he felt like pulling back and leaving, but the Queen looked up and waved him over. No getting out of whatever this was now.

Hell.

His head didn't feel up to it. It really didn't matter what it was. He just didn't think he could manage right now. Tor had to suppress a groan as he walked in, but forced himself to try and smile. A weak and pasty thing at best, but what did they expect? Probably that he wouldn't act like a little wimp or something. Right. Totally unrealistic of them for sure.

It was a group made up of Connie, Karina, Varley, Mercy and an older woman that he didn't recognize at all. She looked efficient, gray haired and nice, flowing clothing that didn't look dressy, but businesslike instead. The Queen spoke first, speaking softly as if trying to not scare him. It was clearly an ambush, he could see that now, a place had been set for him already. So that's where the trap was? Or was it the bait? He also knew that under no normal circumstance he could think of would a group like this want him for anything. So it must not be something normal.

“Good morning Torrence, did you sleep well?” The Queen's bright voice hurt his head, like he'd been drinking or something stupid like that, which he hadn't. It hardly seemed fair. At least people that let themselves drink too much earned their headache. Tor's had just decided to come hang out because he'd been too stupid to get his shield on at the right time. Then again, in a strange way, maybe this was his just punishment for failing to do so?

Yeah, that sounded about right. Forget to do what's needed and you pay. Lesson learned, Tor promised his aching head. It throbbed back that it didn't believe him.

He tried not to sound surly, but wanted this to end as fast as possible so he could go back to bed, or at least hide in his room with the curtain drawn for a while. Possibly open his head with a drill to let the demons out? It might not work, but the idea surely sounded attractive in the moment. As it was the pressure in his head made him want to be sick, at least a little.

“So, do you want me to build something for you? Make some kind of novel device? I can't think of what this would be about otherwise.” Nope, Tor realized he sounded petulant and like a spoiled little kid. He apologized and held his head for a second, then tried again.

“I meant to say, what can I do for you?” He tried for bright, it came out sad, but not for lack of effort.

Varley laughed and gave him her cup, which had a thick brown beverage in it, not tea at all. She told him to drink it for the reaction to the battle rage. Tor still didn't know if it had really been that, commoners like him didn't have that, after all, someone with enough royal blood might, he guessed, but not someone like him. Maybe the treatment for this, whatever it was, would be the same? Better everyone think he'd done it, that battle rage thing, if that got him out of being killed for what happened, though the King's livery thing seemed real enough, so maybe it didn't matter at all? He sipped at the bitter liquid and she suggested he just tough it out and slug down the whole thing fast. He took it in about five large gulps and suppressed a shudder at the end, because everyone watched him so closely. It was bitter and the flavor lingered on his tongue for a long time, unpleasant and medicinal. Varley grinned and took the cup back.

They were there because of the older woman that sat next to the Queen, who turned out to be a representative from someone seeking his hand in marriage. At first he thought it must be a joke, so he started to chuckle a little, waiting for the women to bust up laughing. Everyone went serious, because, apparently, the woman wasn't allowed to discuss the issue without him present. That made the whole thing sound a lot more real somehow. Tiredly he looked at the older woman and waited. If it was just a joke it was pretty elaborate, but then these were royals, so it still could be a lark.

Tor took a few seconds to observe the woman, who was clearly watching him back just as hard. Her face didn't tell him much, yes, she looked older than anyone else in the room, and not as big as a standard royal woman of her age, but what did that mean? She was a lot bigger than the women in his village. Her clothing was quality and she had a few extra pounds on her, possibly at least, it was hard to tell given the clothing she wore. That spoke of money and long term wealth, even being able to give the impression of a bit of extra weight.

Who'd be asking him to marry? Tor tried to put his mind on the task, but nothing really came of it. Who did he know that would ask for him at all?

No one that could afford a go between like this, that was for sure. Unless... well, no, he couldn't think of anyone. Varley saw his confusion and got him another cup of bitter sludge, which he drank just as quickly as before. It was room temperature, so not too hot as far as gulping went. Finally the woman started asking him questions.

“First, and this is mainly a formality, but I need to know if you, personally, are open to the idea of marriage? This would simply be a waste of everyone's time if you aren't.” The words were blunt, but the tone was polite enough. Professional sounding.

Tor thought about it, was he? He'd always figured that he'd get married if he could someday, and while he wanted to get through school so he could properly support a family that wasn't totally impossible if he was married now or in a few years. After about ten seconds he nodded.

“Yes.” He didn't bother elaborating. Didn't everyone want to get married at some point? To have a partner that would stand by them and help them face the world? A mother for his children? Going into his reasons seemed boring and ridiculous. Why state the obvious?

The woman smiled.

“Very good. Now, the woman in question asked me to assure you that if you should choose to disregard her proposal, she'll understand and not take it amiss. As to her station, well, she understands that your current situation is slightly below her own socially, but wishes to also express that she understands that your own natural position may simply have been misunderstood to date. Perhaps even transcending her own.”

Was this supposed to be building the woman up, flattering him, or just inundating him with words so that he didn't realize that he'd said yes when he heard a name? Who did he know that it could be? Did he know her at all? The idea, while a little odd was possible. This could be someone that he didn't know. After all, if he did know them, why would they be interested in him?

Connie cleared her throat and gave the woman a glance that argued for her speeding things up a little. No patience for mysteries either? Again Tor wondered what he would have done if Connie had been about seventeen years younger, not royal and unmarried... Probably freeze and blink at her a lot, get tongue tied and make darn sure she didn't have reason to reject him.