The Builder (The Young Ancients) (50 page)

Tor had to translate what his brother mumbled, but the answer seemed to serve everyone well enough.

“He says that, as long as he doesn't die of embarrassment in the coming months, he'll make good on his word.”

Everything with that situation had to be left up in the air, at least for the school kids, since they had to leave in the afternoon to get back in time. The Morgans, surprisingly to Tor, stayed in Two Bends with their old friend. Two of the tents were taken down and repacked, but those would be going back to the Capital in a few days, so they got left in the trunks for later.

Douglas and Laurie walked over to Tor and Patricia just before they left and started passing out hugs. Tor's mom took his arm and gave him a serious look. When she spoke it was, oddly, in her flawless standard. That was so fewer people could overhear them? It was a little odd.

“Things... will probably change for you now, but remember we're here for you. Just remember that immortal or not, you can still be killed, and Countier is just another name for fool half the time. Don't let those things distract you from your studies, and come visit on break, if you can? For that matter, now that you can make it here and back in a few hours, we expect to see you every few weeks, alright?” She glanced at Trice and smiled. “That goes for both of you. All of you really. I know Timon would like to have your friend Sara come visit. I'll try to explain the age difference to him again. Don't be shocked if he shows up at the school with flowers for her though.”

Tor chuckled, but next to him his fiancée got slightly wide eyed and nodded instead, very seriously. The cultural differences in relationship issues were so vast. Amazingly so really. Tor wondered what parts of all this he'd really been missing so far that everyone else around them would have just gotten without thinking? For that matter, how many people had he been going around offending and not even realizing it?

Just as they began to leave, Terlee came out of the bakery with a basket, one of the nice covered ones that the family used on their rare outings. She bypassed everyone else and walked up to Count Thomson directly, her hair pulled back and spine rigid. As she handed it to him, she leaned in and whispered something. It wasn't Tor's business, but he was kind of curious. After all, Terlee talking to a near stranger like that was... bold. A huge step for her really. Tor wasn't a social butterfly by any means, but Terlee was shy even around her own family as often as not. Whatever this was, he felt an upwelling of pride for his sister. They spoke in hushed tones for nearly two minutes, both of them smiling by the end. Happy smiles at least, not forced looking, whatever that meant.

Tovey packed the basket up in one of his pieces of luggage and they got into the air a few minutes later. They flew too fast for talking, but did take a break halfway to the school. Mainly so they could discuss plans and whatnot without anyone else around.

Rolph started, smiling at Tor slightly.

“So, you get the whole deal, that I'm just Rolph Merchant and not Prince Alphonse Cordes the brilliant and shiny toothed or whatever? At least at school? Some of the faculty know, but really, unless they mentioned it to you openly, just pretend nothing has changed that way. I can be the one all impressed rooming with a Countier and all.”

Tor shook his head, thinking for a few seconds. “Nah. I'm just Squire Tor at best. I don't really know what mom and dad are planning to do yet, so it's all quiet there for the time being too. And the Squire thing's just a fiction, right? So that probably won't come into play ever anyway.”

Count Thomson cleared his throat and looked at Tor with a smile.

“Well. That isn't exactly right. You shouldn't have too much to do as a Squire, true, since it's mainly ceremonial now anyway. But you have a Knight and all that, and you have to do what he says as far as training goes, he's required to see to that, as one of his duties, and if there's a war, you're off to battle with him to make sure he stays cared for and provisioned, which means you could see combat too. It isn't a lark. If it comes down to it, you'll be expected to try and protect the kingdom at the cost of your life and take his place on the field if he falls in battle.”

Rolph smirked and grabbed a sweet roll from the basket Tovey held out for everyone. They were walnut honey rolls, which made Tor half choke when he took the first bite. Not that they weren't good, they were of course, since Terlee had made them, but...

“God! Tovey... do you get the... These rolls, they're a traditional Two Bends courting gift!”

The huge man smiled a bit and nodded.

“I know. The tradition's the same in county Thomson. Lairdgren and Thomson border on the east side after all, so even the accent's not that different, a lot of shared customs and all too. Plus, you know, I figured it out when she asked if I was engaged to be married. Which I'm not yet. These rolls are really good. Anyone would be pleased to receive them I think.” He took a big bite and closed his eyes, obviously enjoying the complex flavors and textures.

Tor started to apologize for his sister. It was awkward, and he didn't know what to say, which turned out to be a moot point.

Rolph punched him in the arm. Hard. Harder than was playful.

“Shut it dwarf.” He said, a name that he'd never called Tor before, which got him to spin on his friend. At least Rolph smiled at him.

Everyone else did too, so he shrugged and looked around. Finally, thankfully, Sara explained the situation to simple little Tor. She was good like that.

“Tor, your sister... She's a Counserina. That makes her something like one of twenty or thirty women that Tovey could really marry in the whole kingdom, at least after you correct for bloodlines and such. She's within two years of his age, and really good looking too. So, you know, it's a good match. Plus, they seem to actually get along, which is a rare thing. If Tovey didn't take her advances seriously, he'd be worse than a Doretta, he'd be a moron... Sorry, Tovey, but it's true.” She blushed but didn't duck her head in shame or anything.

Tovey just tilted his head at her a little and very seriously gave her a half nod of agreement and took another bite of his roll.

“Oh.” Tor decided to let them deal with it then, and rubbed his arm instead. He really needed to remember to leave his shield on more often. Especially going back to where Wensa was going to be.

“Right, well, not my business. Unless, you know, you hurt her somehow.” He gave his best mock glare to the Count who simply nodded, accepting the idea easily. Tor expected a laugh from the others, but they just nodded too. Right. Well, he could probably get away with calling the Count names now or something, right? If he had to.

“Hey, wait!” He said, changing the topic, since that had gotten awfully uncomfortable fast.

“I have an actual Knight? Who?”

Rolph nodded and pulled out a piece of paper for him, a sealed document with an official imprint and everything. “Your introduction. There are only three Knights at the school, and Wensa's one of them. Dad didn't think you'd enjoy working with her too much for some silly reason. So you're assigned to one of the others. Sir Martin Kolbrin, Baron third. Knight of the realm, obviously or you couldn't be his Squire.”

The name didn't ring a bell.

“Uh... So I have to meet him? Is that set up or something or...” The idea of just showing up at some guy's house unannounced seemed hard, but if that's what he had to do, he'd manage it. It was his duty.

It was Tovey that clued him in, keeping his face serious.

“Um, Tor? Martin Kolbrin? That's… Kolb. Our weapons instructor?”

“Oh.”

Well, Tor thought, that wasn't intimidating or anything. Not at all.

He just hoped Trice appreciated all he was doing for her, since having Kolb as a Knight might just lead to his death.

Oh well.

At least there wasn't a war going on or anything like that.

Tor flew back with the others, deciding to try and be happy. It was exciting anyway, right?

Right.

Here's a bonus chapter from the first book of the Gwen Farris series, “Abominations”

By

P.S. Power

Chapter one

Gwen woke up in a strange room, unable to move. Not even twitch. At first it felt like a night terror or sleep paralysis, but after a minute it was clear something more serious was going on. She tried to struggle for a second but got the idea pretty quickly.

Whatever was happening, she wasn't allowed to just get up and leave on her own. Beneath her the bed... table... whatever it was, felt hard – cold – like stone. Not the softly comfortable memory foam she'd gone to sleep on at all. Something in her mouth kept her from making more than the smallest of sounds. Oddly enough it didn't keep her from breathing through her nose, an uncomfortable thing for her to do at the best of times. Right now the air flowed easily for some reason. No pain came from that area of her face, so it wasn't that someone had just freed up her breathing passages by cutting her open or anything like that either. Not that she could tell at least. If they had wouldn't the blood be getting into her lungs?

She should probably panic about now, Gwen knew, since her hands and feet seemed to be tied securely to the surface below her. That just couldn't be a good sign. She couldn't even begin to wiggle enough to start trying to escape. That got a try for a bit, because there should be more movement, unless someone had her legs and arms strapped down too? Considering that as an option – panic – Gwen decided to put the idea aside for now. It would leave her something to do later if things really got bad.

Always good to have a fallback position and her realistic options were a bit limited at the moment. Panic or not panic... that was about it, as far as she could tell.

Gwen looked around, only a little frantic, trying to stay calm and take in everything she could, in case she managed to get out of this one alive somehow, as unlikely as that seemed.

Not that she cared that much about living really. The thought occurred to her for what must have been the twentieth time that week, an old and familiar thing at this point in her life. Now, not letting these creeps, whoever they were, get away with this, that gave her a real reason to live. For the moment.

It felt ironic to her that these freaks, and face it, they had to be pretty freaky if they wanted to tie her up, gave Gwen more of a reason to go on than anything else had for quite a while. Possibly ever.

Maybe a Christmas card would be in order, to thank them for thinking of her? A choked chuckle came from low in her throat. She'd take what she could get and run with it for now, a laugh, a reason to live, whatever. When you had nothing, a crumb could feel like a feast. She'd feasted on enough crumbs to know the feeling.

A man in a black robe, with the hood up, the floppy kind that covered the top part of his face, hanging down nearly over his eyes altogether, walked over and gestured to someone else who was just out of her field of vision.

She assumed it was a person. It could be this guy's imaginary friend for all she knew. Giant invisible rabbit maybe? Her head didn't turn to the side, so she could only see a small portion of the room. The guy acted like someone else was there, if that meant anything. Who could tell with crazy?

“She's awake! Good, we can begin. Anything to say dear, before we start?” The man bent down, as if actually listening to her. Nice of him.