The Dark Half of the Sun (The Young Ancients: Timon) (19 page)

Noticing that he was touching one lightly colored square over from where he started, which instantly fixed it, making the thing go to a gray black again, the sound leaving at the same time. It was fascinating, of course, just not something he could afford to spend a lot of time on. Not yet. Maybe some other time he could learn more about this strange land. In a way he needed to, since he was planning to open up travel to it. Only a fool would try to do that without all the information he could possibly get.

He found something interesting then, as he walked down the stairs to the main room. Brown, for all his age and wisdom, was not an early riser at all. It was nearly nine when Dorgal came out of his room, his lone chest being carried with some effort. Waving without a word he ran to get his own chests and since they followed along on their own, helped the merchant with his. It was awkward to carry his half, given the height difference. It had to be done, since the man was a passenger. Even if he wasn't strictly paying.

They loaded up quickly, then stood, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did for nearly an hour. Finally Timon got the letter for Brown out of his second chest and went inside to find someone to hand it off too. That was harder to do than it should have been, because at first no one was around, and then, when a guard in tan came, the man asked them to wait. Politely, but it was still a strange way of doing things. He came back a few minutes later, holding several small envelopes and a black compact.

"This one is for you sir. The Revered One asked that you be given it. Here, let me show you how to use it. He suggested that might be helpful?" There was a hesitation to the words as the black box came out.

"That would help a lot, thank you. This isn't a thing that I've used before. We do things differently back home."

The lesson didn't take long, since it was decently familiar in idea. You had sigils for different tasks and just hit it to activate. There were codes that could be put in to contact other compacts, using numbers. He was shown how to record pictures as well.

"There's more, but that's the basic stuff. If you use it too much it will need to be charged. That... I think you have to be in Austra for it, but you can do it in almost any home, like this..."

There was a thin thread that came out and a flat plate the size of a coin that rested against a plate on the wall. Timon nodded, wondering how many times a day people here had to do that. The guard handed the whole thing over and then gave them a box that they were assured had food in it. He didn't look, fearing that it wasn't going to be a pleasant thing at all, but thanked the man for his kindness.

They started to take off from the yard, but the same guardsmen ran out, waving to them.

"Sorry! I forgot. You need to take off from the bay, or else the automated systems will try to shoot you down. You aren't a registered flight, so keep that in mind. If you go over land flying too high, it won't go well."

"Ah. We'll make sure we don't do that then." Timon wondered what other things he didn't know about this place.

It took a while to find the water, and he made a point of getting a few miles away before taking off, and flying in a large circle around the place, heading to the north. He was a little hungry so got Dorgal to open the food box, which showed strange packages inside. On the good side they were things that could mainly be eaten with one hand, sucking the paste or gel from inside as he flew. That was about the only good thing about it. There was bread as well, but it had almost no resemblance to anything that he'd ever made. Its texture was odd, almost as if partially undercooked. It fed them, so he decided not to complain. He'd just be certain to bring more food with him next time.

"It will be awhile before we get to Afrak, a few hours I think. Then I want to deliver the letters I have to Gray and be gone. Have you ever met Princess Abby?"

The merchant shook his head, still eyeing the last of his food dubiously.

"Eh... no. Not yet. I'm friends with the Prince, but that doesn't get me invited to dinner. Class differences and all that. Alphonse says that she's incredible. I have to admit I'm a bit jealous. She can be with him in a way that I never can." There was silence after that, which got Timon to glance over. The man was staring at him, his face slightly drawn and stricken.

Because Tim wasn't an adult and
his
ways were a bit more strict than what nobles or city folk followed when it came to same gender pairings. Or having more than one person in your life that way.

"That has to be hard. My point though is that she's one of their best, from what I've seen. My grandmother, Gray, she... well, I think it's fair to say that she hates men. Be ready for that. She might just ban us both from her lands. If we can manage it, we shouldn't linger there. I just don't want you to base all of their land on one unpleasant person." There was a grin with the words, and a head shake.

"I don't suppose you've ever met my mother either?" It didn't seem very likely, but he was in for a surprise there.

"Ah! Yes. Your sister Tamerlane as well. Both rare beauties. Though your mother was rather upset at the time. It was at a duel to the death, between Tor and Count Rodriguez. The man had... Well, I'm sure you know the story. It was just after that. Tor stood victorious, of course, which frightened me more than a little, personally. I was actually shaking, trying to act like I wasn't. I'd spent more than a full year mocking him, and threatening to do him harm, and he'd never done more than stammer at me and make his leave. Then he walked out onto a death field, and insulted a sitting Count, goading harshly, until the man challenged him instead of young David Derring, which was about the bravest thing I'd ever seen. Made me feel the coward I'll tell you now.

"And then he defeated the man, a true giant in gleaming armor, so easily it was almost a farce. I'd thought that I'd scared him, my cousin Marco and I, looming over him as we did, saying biting things. I hadn't realized that he'd held his tongue and hand to protect
us
the whole time."

There was silence for a bit then, and when Timon glanced over again he saw the man was trying to drink something from a strange bottle. He made a face, and kept going. They still didn't have water with them.

Dorgal sighed and raised the bottle.

"So, there I was, shown very clearly that I was a buffoon that had danced with death over and over again, unknowing, being fooled by appearance as I was. Then I saw her. A lovely girl that looked about my own age, taking Tor to task and seeming ready to flay the very skin from his bones with her rage. Your mother. I was surprised by that, her youth, and even more to learn she was a Conserina. I did what I could to smooth the situation then, but I fear my words did little to help. Still, Tor did manage to survive the day intact, so perhaps something useful was done?"

Timon did his own sighing and flew above a cloud bank, making the water vanish. The mirrored craft moved silently for a while, until about ten minutes later. Then he looked over and nodded.

"That was my mother. Grandma looks just like her. I don't mean that in a light way. It's not a family resemblance, they're the same person. On the outside at least. I can't say I like my grandmother from the few times we've met."

They talked about a lot of things as they flew, including what kind of things they might find in Afrak, but not about anything important after that. Not even why Petra Ward had been with them. It was something they needed to discuss however, since she was in hiding. The thing there was that for all he knew Merchant Sorvee was in on the plot to take over the Kingdom. That or he might be beholden to those that would require him to share such information as a Conserina's whereabouts if he knew them. When they saw the bay, with a ship in the port, a great wooden thing the like of which Timon had never seen, with sail down and resting, he knew that he'd have to speak.

"Dorgal... I know that we've just met, but you said you were my brother's friend, so I must ask a favor of you."

The man next to him nodded, not looking at his face at all, just staring out the window blankly.

"You wish me to leave off the Prince and not to meddle with his heart?" The words were dark and deep, coming reluctantly.

"What? No... How is that any business of mine? No, no, nothing like that at all. Alphonse is an adult, and Princess Abumanitalli is my great niece, but also more than enough to deal with such things on her own if she doesn't want you involved with her future husband. Not that at all." He sighed, trying to build his courage back up, having been knocked off guard like that. "I must have your silence about where Petra Ward is. Until she returns home. I can't tell you why that is, so I have to ask you to trust me. It's important, and not a small thing... Can you do that?"

For all he knew the answer would be no. There was no law that said anyone had to listen to him, and Dorgal didn't have some great love for his brother either, that was clear, friend now or not. That didn't mean he was a bad person though. Maybe there was a chance he could hold his tongue? If not... Well then he wouldn't leave Vagus.

Not quickly at least. The trip home without Timon's help might just take him years from there.

The man stared at him for a while, no expression visible, not even a cunning look, which was his most common expression as he figured out new ways to make gold from the world around him. In this moment he just regarded the boy next to him and didn't blink.

"I can't imagine why you'd want to hide a Conserina. Who told you to do that?" The question was probing, too much so to be a casual thing at all. "Would it be your brother? Or perhaps your father, or Lady mother? No..."

He kept his eyes locked on the side of Timon's head, then shook his own after a while.

"No, it has to be someone greater than that, doesn't it? The King? Perhaps the Queen? I know that she's Tor's lover, so I suppose it could be from there. Why though? Why would someone want Petra Ward out of the way, and not killed? Treachery is the only answer... A threat so great that only removing her to the safety of Austra will serve. There are only two groups in Noram that would require that great of an action." He thought in silence for a few moments and finally spoke with a level of assurance that told Timon a lot. More than Dorgal could have known.

"Timon, is there a plot against the crown? A thing so dark that simply knowing that Conserina Ward is alive would give away the King's hand." There was a smile then, a twisted thing that had no humor in it at all. "Well, unless you were to be working against the King and if that were the case your own brother would be fighting you I think. He loves the King and the Prince, as well as the rest of their family. No, I can't see you doing that at all. What I've seen about you is more honorable than that by far. If with more of a merchant's heart than I've seen in the rest of them, which gladdens me. That means that one of
them
told you to protect her. Or begged you to."

Timon didn't deny it, but also didn't say it was correct, just piloting, settling low over the waves and moving toward the docks at about twenty miles per hour, so that no one would be made afraid. Then he stopped dead and turned to the man.

"So I have your word on the matter?" Timon waited for the man to nod, noticing that his hair wasn't greasy at all today, it was just black and straight. It looked better that way. He'd have to warn the man that Lyn would probably think that too.

There was a nod then.

"You do. I promise that I won't speak to anyone about where she is, until she returns to our land openly."

Nodding Timon started them moving again.

"Good. Also nice to know that no one has contracted the Assassins Guild to kill her yet either. You'll let me know if anyone tries to buy her death? I'll offer more gold for their name than they can pay for the death." He looked at the people on the docks waving to them as Dorgal went still. "Not that I know how I'll get the funds. Probably from my brother, but keep that in mind, will you? Also... try not to take offense at my grandmother. I don't think she can help herself."

Dorgal took a deep breath, and nodded.

"You... are a very dangerous man, you know that Timon Baker?"

"What, because I figured out that you knew too much about who might be going after Petra Ward? That doesn't make me dangerous. Just better informed than most people."

Dorgal chuckled and shook his head a bit.

"That's normally the same thing, where we come from."

It was just the truth, so Tim nodded and kept flying, hoping that the revelation that the Sorvee merchant family was the Assassins Guild would be the biggest event of the day.

The docks were filled with dark skinned women dressed in brown, spun fiber clothing, most with tight curly black hair that looked practical and well controlled. One of the women had brilliant blue hair and orange eyes, which was distinctive if nothing else. It wasn't dye, but her actual color, Timon thought, much like Princess Abby had bird red hair that stood straight up and never faded, along with ice blue for eyes. It wasn't that one that approached first however. It was a woman that looked to be about forty or so, who clearly thought
she
was in charge, regardless of hair color.

The woman waved to them happily, gestured at the craft and then, almost shockingly, bowed low. She didn't speak at first, but turned and muttered back to the crowd in Afrak. Timon didn't know a lot of it, but he got the general idea easily enough, since Abby had taught him some words and phrases when they'd met each time except the last.

"They are of Noram, I recognize the little ship. Who here can speak to them?" That, from the reaction was no one in the area.

The blue haired one stepped forward then and bowed herself.

"I like these ones. Do you think they are married? We should send for the Gray. She speaks their tongue."

Timon held up the letters for his grandmother, and spoke a bit haltingly. There were some sounds he wasn't able to make yet, his inner mouth being the wrong shape. It would make him sound a bit funny to the women, he knew.

"These are for her? For the Gray? I don't need to see her. Just deliver these." Though he really should stay and at least get a return message. If she had one. It was a great plan and even if they had to sleep in the Fast Craft it would be worth it. Even going hungry for a day. That sounded more than fair, to avoid the woman.

It wasn't to be though, since she came running to the docks, her sandals fairly flying. How she could do that and not fall wearing the plain gray dress she had on he didn't know. It wasn't much faster than he could go, but it was a good clip and was probably close to the speed a good horse could run going flat out. Tim set his face as he waited, hoping it wouldn't be as bad as it might be.

She wasn't out of breath that he could tell, or sweating overly either as she stopped and glanced at Dorgal and then glared at Timon for a few seconds.

"Oh, It's the brat that thinks he knows better than his elders and what... someone come to sell us fripperies and pretend they have value?" The words held anger in them, even if the face was calm.

A slow rage started that he wasn't ready for at all. It wasn't about her, he knew, as rude as she was being. It was about his mother, who, as he'd pointed out to Dorgal, who was goggling a bit at the likeness, was identical. Except that Gray tended to keep her apparent age at about fourteen or so. He had to bite his lip and force himself to breathe, so that a combat rage wouldn't start. It was building inside him he could tell. It had only happened twice before and the second time he'd managed to run off into the woods and beat a tree instead of the neighbor boy that had been sassing him. It had been too close and he'd nearly killed the kid.

Now he was starting to do it again.

"What's wrong boy? Can't be bothered to answer your elders? Too good for the likes of us? We don't wave swords or kill everyone in sight, so we aren't worth your time? How like the men of Noram. Simple brutes without sense, the lot of you. Too stupid and graceless to even mutter a few polite phrases." Her tone seemed nearly triumphant, until she fell down, along with everyone within twenty feet of him or so. Those few he could see that were further away reeled as well, but didn't all go down, just looking dizzy.

"I came to deliver these messages. That is done. I'll leave now. If you mock me the next time we meet, be prepared to fight to the death for it. There are limits to what I'll take and you just walked right past them." Then he threw the letters on top of her and managed to resist kicking her, which he was pretty proud of. Instead he picked up Dorgal and carried him into the craft, feeling as if he weighed no more than a large bag of flour. It wasn't true, but in his rage he could manage it. Then he took off without waiting to make certain everyone was all right.

The disorientation from the combat aura was pretty strong, true. Not particularly dangerous however. Not unless he lost control and attacked someone that was already down and not able to fight back. Of course with his shield on that was a lot more dangerous than not. Even unarmed his fists would hit like iron at the moment.

He headed north and east, the rage subsiding after a few moments, thankfully. It would make him stupid and clumsy, as well as cause his head to hurt, but it would be a lot harsher if it went on for a longer time.

The aching began before Dorgal woke up enough to speak, which he didn't do even after it was probably safe. Timon realized that he was afraid, which was normally a good idea if someone flying a craft you were in had just been in a rage like that. Forcing a smile he turned to the man slightly, not letting his head turn too far, since it might mess up the line he'd chosen to fly in. Not that he was all that certain he was going to the right spot. If he could find a landmark he recognized that would work better.

"So... That went better than I thought. Sorry about that. I didn't think she'd come on that strong right off the bat. Not that it should have triggered me like that. I almost never do that." You were supposed to apologize to people if you hurt them, but the rules said that you got to mainly ignore the rest of the fallout from combat rage, after the fact. Dorgal was stuck with him however, so reassuring the man that he wasn't about to go all rage monster in the small enclosed space just seemed polite.

He shook his head a little and didn't make direct eye contact. That was also in the rules. A person that had been triggered once was more likely to do it again for a few days if pushed. If nothing else they'd most likely get angry a lot easier.

Of course as it was Timon wasn't absolutely certain he hadn't just started a war with Afrak. True, it might be fair to suggest that Gray started it, not
him
. That wouldn't be how it looked to everyone back home if it came to fighting. On the good side Gray didn't have an army, or violence, so it would probably just be him running around yelling at a bunch of scared women that had no real reason to be his enemy.

Dorgal, being caught in a bit of a trap, didn't talk for nearly two hours, even when Tim made small comments. Anything said might be the wrong thing, and of course, if a person were so inclined to that sort of thing, being
silent
could also be enough to make them upset. It wasn't really bothering him. Really, the words shouldn't have either. He was feeling fairly stable again, really.

"It's that I'm kind of fighting with my ma. Lara is too much like her and it kind of set things going that shouldn't have, even if she was a bit rude to us." The controller felt strange and hard in his hand he realized, which wasn't right. The craft seemed fine, in that it flew well, but the walls were uneven and bulging outward, as if trying to get away from him. He'd accidentally caused it to change without realizing it. Without saying anything he focused, trying to fix it all. That actually got Dorgal to relax visibly and after a few more minutes dare to actually break his silence.

"But Lyn Cooper is nicer? No hidden secrets?" There was a hesitation to the words, a shyness almost. It wasn't what he expected from the fellow at all.

"Oh... well, yeah. More than we'll ever know, I'd guess. She's an
Ancient
, a real one, having already lived thousands of years. I know that she can control her age a lot better than most of us can, so there's that. She can also turn into this tall skeletal creature, which makes her faster and stronger. Like a person in a combat rage, except she's in full control of herself all the time. It's fascinating to see, but not all that pretty. She's also becoming a really good builder too. Friendly enough. Other than that I don't know that much about her. Vagus is kind of low magic so far, but she's training about fifty or so builders already, and in twenty years they'll probably have more wizards than Noram does." He was rambling.

Dorgal nodded along and didn't ask too many hard questions. That was pretty standard too, from what his parents had told him after the first time he'd done it, when he was nine. As far as they knew it had never happened after that. There had been a couple of close calls for him. Almost every time he got too mad really. It wasn't a fun thing at all and if his parents knew, they'd probably insist that he go home right that moment. Like that would help.

Just thinking about it started to make him angry again, so he tried to distract himself by talking.

"It won't take too long from here. Vagus is big, but only about five more hours from this point. If we don't get lost that is." He grinned and glanced at the man, who was keeping his face as still as possible. "That's... probably not going to happen. It really is a huge place. If you can get Lyn to marry you there's that. Pretty much the best time to do it too. It's a little rough right now. Mud huts and horse farmers mainly. That won't last too long..." Timon blinked and realized that there was a strange red lump under them, a palace like the one that Lyn had made for the summit. Pointing he stopped and looked at it. There was a stream going into it, from the air, but it was on the edge of a forest, not in a large grassy plain at all. The landscape was different too. A mountain range to the left that hadn't been there at all. So it had been moved?

He shook his head and started to land, wondering why she'd moved the thing at all. When he settled a group of people, some young, some nearly ancient it seemed, from their gray hair and stooped forms, moved toward them. They were in rich looking robes, all the same bright red. Like a uniform. On their feet were strange shoes, also red, if a lighter shade of it, a style that Timon had only ever seen on Lyn herself.

Dorgal was almost happy to get out of the craft it seemed, and smiled genially at the group that stood around them, hands folded in their long sleeves. From the center of the group a woman came, looking about forty or so. Lyn.

Timon waved to her, then realized it wasn't nearly proper enough a greeting for the leader of an entire land, so he bowed, which got Dorgal to do the same, going lower than he did and holding it. The people all bowed back, except Lyn, who ran forward, her face aging backwards as she moved.

"Brother!" There was a hug, a tight thing that showed that the woman, who now looked like a young girl, was many times stronger than she looked. He actually had the air taken from him for a few seconds until she relented a bit. "I didn't think anyone would be in touch for a few years. Is everything alright?"

That was a delicate question, one that he didn't want to answer openly in front of a crowd, in case some of them had been learning to speak Noram standard. If they hadn't they should, since they were going to be friends and coworkers.

"Of course not, but you know the thing about Tor. That hasn't changed as far as I know. This gentleman is the Merchant... prince, Dorgal Sorvee, who's come to not only look for trade, but also to see about getting married to you. I was thinking we'd hold one ceremony here today, then one in the Capital in a few weeks. You're good with that, aren't you?" It was said jokingly, but Red nodded, as if it only made perfect sense.

To that end she barked out something in her language, which was actually called "Cantonese" not "Vagish". He didn't know enough to get what she said, but it was followed by a smile and an explanation.

"That's fast work Dorgal. A good plan, taking charge like that. I asked for the whole thing to be set up. We don't have complicated ceremonies here. We just jump over a small fire holding hands and spend the night together alone. There will be some singing and dancing for the others, but we mainly just get to talk and consummate things. It will be fun."

To his credit, Dorgal didn't hesitate or look bashful at all, he bowed instead and then took her hand in a very proper fashion.

"It sounds perfect... Lyn. Much better than what my mother will insist upon back home. Should I have some special kind of costume, or learn a speech? I fear I haven't prepared anything in your tongue as of yet. I promise to learn it as soon as I may."

That earned him a hug, which wasn't nearly as hard or familial as what Tim had gotten. That was a good sign at least. He'd been afraid that the man might only like other men, from what he'd said, but he seemed happy enough to let Lyn touch him. She was cute, if slightly funny looking. That was just the way her people were, and it wasn't unpleasant, just different.

"That's good to hear. What you're wearing will be fine for the ceremony, but it won't start until dark. The Mages that are working at copies and meditation will wish to attend I think. It's not every day that there's a wedding after all. We'll have a feast too. It's what we do." She dimpled at Timon then and clapped once, which got everyone else to run off in different directions. Some of them smiled. Not all by any means however.

Those of Vagus had lived a hard existence for thousands of years. Capturing magic for them from Noram had been a last ditch effort for Lyn, he thought. It didn't instantly fix their land, of course. That would take a long time and a lot of hard work. The school here, if that's what this place was, seemed to be thriving however. The clothing they were wearing had to be made of magic, since they hadn't been allowed real fabrics that fine before.