Lord of the Sky (The Young Ancients: Timon)

by P. S. Power

Then there was more sitting. Just as Tovey finished explaining how babies were made, and how to please a woman in bed, since it was his job apparently, there was a knock on the door. Petra opened it for them, which was, in hindsight, a mistake. There was a crowd out front and they weren't anyone he knew at all.

  City people from the Capital, all dressed up for a party.

  The man in front was dressed in a multicolored outfit, his face bearded and smiling.

  "There he is! Timon Baker. We've come for your procession. Get him!"

  It was a bit strange, but the "getting" wasn't that bad, since they just picked him up and carried him outside. Then, using the stairs he'd made earlier, the men and women carefully took him to the river and tossed him in, while chanting.

  It would have been nice if they would have asked if he could swim first, but as the cool water shocked his system, he couldn't mind that much. It was the local tradition after all and even if they didn't know him, these people had cared enough to actually show up. Most of them were probably vendors, since some small stands had been set up already, for a bit of a public party. In the center of the huge empty area outside the city wall a pile of ice blocks was already being set up, to form a castle. Down the way a mountain had appeared, with a waterfall cascading down and several other events, most of them magical in nature, were being set up.

  Timon shook his head, glad that he had on one of Tor's temperature equalizers. As he climbed out he shook his head a bit, causing a few drips of water to spread out as Tovey reached forward, laughing, and pushed him back in.

  That was the game for a bit then, until he cheated and used his flying rig to go over everyone's head, getting a cheer from the crowd that had gathered to haze him.

  "There we go! Can't keep the little wizard down for long!" This came from the white bearded man, who he realized was actually the local tax collector that had taken the fee for his land rent.

  It made sense for him to be there, since he was probably going to be working most of the day. More people were coming out, some to set up little booths, others just to gap at what was going on.

  "It looks like we're going to have a party then?" Timon tried to make his voice sound pleased, even if it wasn't about him at all. People had done this when Lyn and Dorgal got married, but she was a head of state, so it was a big deal. Neither he, nor Trice, rated this exactly. For a second he had to wonder if people thought he was Tor, but that wasn't it. They knew who he was and started chanting his name to prove it.

  Thankfully that didn't go on too long, and he was able to get most of the way back to his house when someone thought it would be a good idea to make him sit on the growing ice structure. That was wet making again, but not that cold. Still, they weren't finished with him for hours. It was a bit embarrassing but he ended up being stripped by a group of women who chased him through the streets of the city. True he could have made clothing appear at any time, but this too, seemed to be some kind of tradition. The idea was that he'd have to kiss whoever caught him and that would mark that they were going to be the next to be married. The competition was a bit fierce, with several woman actually pulling the hair of the others trying to get at him. He ended up being cornered with two rather plain young ladies holding on to him as they kissed him on either cheek. That got a cheer going, but meant he was allowed his dignity again.

  Then...

  He glared a bit while he made his way back to his house, going straight in and showering, for the third time that day.

  This time when he came out, everyone was gone, Except Tovey and one newcomer, that being Count Peterson.

  "I missed the procession? Sorry, I thought we'd have a bit more time. Well, don't worry, we'll do it again at the Palace anyway. I hear your Aunt has some truly embarrassing experiences lined up for you. Shall we go? Everyone is waiting for you there, to see if you actually show up or not. The odds are against it, but I put fifty gold on you showing. Your Aunt gets it if you don't appear on time. She seems to have forgotten how honorable you are. Her mistake, my gain." The man seemed genuinely happy with the situation now, and pounded Tim on the back, hard.

  Thank goodness for shields. His kept Timon from going anywhere.

  It was tempting to just leave it on and refuse to go to the Palace until later, since he really didn't want to be made to run around the place naked with his Aunt laughing at him or whatever she had planned.

  They had time and Count Peterson had come in a horse drawn carriage.

  "It's a bit more stylish than flying, I hear. Shall we go? It won't help to show up late."

  Then he laughed, as if there was some kind of joke involved in the whole thing. He was already married, so maybe to him there was? All he had to do was stand there and fight anyone that came to cause a scene. Who exactly that would be, given the location the ceremony was being held in, Timon didn't know. No one would try anything in the Palace, since doing so wouldn't just make for a dramatic moment, but probably involve death in fairly short order.

  The ride over, thankfully, took a lot longer than it should have, since there were people in the street already, wearing warm winter jackets, which in the Capital just meant heavy shirts with sleeves on them, and singing. They were all Noram Day songs, but that made sense to him. Why would they care about his wedding at all? The answer there was that they wouldn't. They were just taking advantage of the free party.

  Hopefully it was being paid for by Tor, because he wasn't going to be able to afford it himself. Not unless everyone were going to cover their own food and drink. So far no one was just handing things out, but that didn't mean anything, it was just now turning mid-afternoon.

  Getting to the gate took nearly an hour, since people were getting into the street, and then it took about fifteen minutes to be cleared at the gate, even with Truth amulets.

  Thankfully that got broken up almost immediately.

  "There he is!" That was all he heard before he was descended upon, standing outside the door, right next to Count Peterson. To his credit the giant did try to grab him and run away, but the Royal Guardsmen and women caught them almost instantly and carried him around the side of the building. It was on the opposite side of the structure from the ponds at least, closer to the outdoor kitchen used in the summer months. They walked past that too, with Peterson walking behind them, laughing. A lot of them were.

  That wasn't a thing that left him feeling easy and relaxed. Especially when Kara started pulling at his amulets. She plucked them off one by one, as she stood, not knowing if he was about to be stripped again or not. It turned out that he got to keep his clothing, which was something at least.

  "So I take it this isn't something the Queen planned out? I mean if I get to have some shred of dignity. Some kind of Royal Guard prank?"

  Kara, who had a handful of amulets and chains now, winked, which wasn't exactly the way he was used to seeing her. She was strong, capable and quick to smile, but playful didn't really fit.

  "Prank? No... Not at all. This is one of our traditions. Normally we would have waited for you to turn fourteen, but today, early or not, you marry, meaning that you're an adult now. So, it's time to test what you're made of." There was a sweet smile on her face and a chuckle as she pushed him into the center of what looked to be a practice arena surrounded by a hedge.

  It was a nice space, flat, with paving stones on the ground, instead of dirt. That looked good, but didn't take into account how much falling on them would hurt. Or, if they did, whoever designed the practice area expected their students to be more than human.

  George, who was the oldest person there, being in his fifties at least, moved to stand in front of him, also pulling off a few amulets and taking some devices out of his pockets. Then he pulled out several knives, a piece of wire with a handle on either end and a vial of something in a brown glass bottle with a cork stopper. These were handed over to Kara too, who stepped back without saying anything.

  The older man did.

  "The rules are simple enough.
You must face three of us in combat, one at a time. Try to avoid taking out eyes or killing blows if possible. It's your responsibility to survive. Are you ready?"

  From the look on their faces now, this part wasn't a joke at all, but a real test. Why they thought he would be a part of this he didn't know, but he wasn't given a chance to chat about it, since a very fast backhanded blow moved out from George, who was nearly nine or ten inches taller than he was. It hurt, but the surprise was what sent him stumbling back.

  He didn't whine about it not being fair. They all knew that already. All of them were bigger than he was. Stronger. Or at least as strong. That was something that they might not have realized about him yet. Whatever it was that made him immortal also made him very fast and strong. Like Tiera was. Except that she worked out and knew how to fight now. Unarmed he wasn't much better off than any kid his age from Two Bends would have been.

  Basically that meant he knew how to tackle someone, poorly, and three different punches. He could be wrong, but from the way that George was flowing toward him, his hips barely shifting as he did it, the man might be just a tad better than he was that way.

  Trying to remember the fights that he'd seen before, Timon danced back, moving in a circle as he did it. George didn't cry foul, but he didn't stop either, moving in like a landslide that was tracking his movements.

  Finally Tim smiled and pretended to jump in.

  That got him hit in the head hard enough that he went all the way to the ground, his skull making a deep thunk on the stone. Blood filled his mouth and there was a burning sensation on the right side of his face, but he managed to kick at the man, fast enough that he didn't risk trying to close. It was the awkward kind of thing that little kids did when they got pushed down, but it bought him time to try and get back up. That he did quickly. It was nearly enough, the larger man stepped in easily and threw him down with a thud.

  The whole thing lasted about three minutes and left a feeling of pain throughout most of his body. He did manage to keep to his feet for most of it, which was at least something. Not much, but what else could he do? The Royal Guard had the only exit blocked and the hedge was tall enough that he didn't think he could go over it. That meant taking a beating. Well, winning was also an option, but so far that didn't seem too likely.

  Without any signal at all, a huge man walked to the center of the space with him and brought his hands up into a fighting pose. Timon did the same, his tiny fists looking like a joke compared to the mountain of human flesh in front of him. He was only about six-six, but the man had more muscle than should be possible for someone that size.

  Hopefully that would mean he was slow.

  When the first blow came it wasn't that fast, but that could be fake, trying to throw him off. The guard just testing him? Or letting him feel like he had a chance. That was clearly false. Still, if he had to be beaten there was no reason not to try and do something. What that should be he didn't know. Laughing he rushed the man, not even trying to do more than raise his hands. It was just something so strange that even a well trained fighter might be taken off guard, he hoped.

  It lasted for about half a second. Then he was picked up bodily and tossed across the paved space toward the far hedge. That was over twenty-five feet away, which meant that the landing didn't go well. Timon had gotten his feet under him, but the momentum sent him off to the side and when he caught himself with his right hand, something made a soft popping noise. The shock of it ran up his arm, and there was an odd lump a quarter of the way to his elbow, on the outside of his forearm. Broken then. That didn't seem to be enough to stop this... whatever they called it.

  The giant man came at him and slapped him so hard with and open palm that he actually started to black out.

  After that a woman he didn't know took her turn, beating him at least as well as either man had managed. That was it, thankfully. As soon as she'd had her fun, or the time ran out, which was probably the actual case, even no one looked at a watch, everyone moved in and started patting him on the back.

  George actually sounded happy about it.

  "Life isn't fair. That's part of what growing up means, learning that. Seldom will you find an even fight, and when you do, it will almost always have a trick or lie in it. Don't forget that. You did... Well enough. You need to improve your fighting skills." Then he moved back, smiling and the second man snorted, taking his place.

  "You can't plan for the unexpected, if you can't think of it first. Use your mind and assume that. Find scenarios that let you win, and always presume that failure can come at any time. It isn't a fun way to live, but it may save your life."

  Then, because there was a pattern to the advice being given, the big guard moved away, letting the woman he didn't know come forward. He'd seen her before, but it wasn't time for them to make complex introductions, clearly. There was a ceremony going on after all.

  "Pain, loss, and sorrow will come. By knowing that ahead of time you can be prepared to carry on, even through the hurt. These things are true for all people, of all stations. Being an adult means being willing to stand. For yourself, and for others. It means doing your duty, no matter how hard and unfair. Today you are a man. What you will be tomorrow is uncertain, but we all have high hopes for you." Then, without saying anything else, they all left. Kara lingered at least and handed him his amulets back, and his weapons.

  "Best stay armed for now. That was rather pitiful."

  He mumbled a bit, past the fat lips.

  "Well, I don't know how to fight."

  "I know. A bit of an oversight on your part. You should fix that."

  Then she walked away too. That only left him and Count Peterson in the practice area, the larger man looking a bit disgruntled. Timon shook his head and put his gear back on, then triggered his healing amulet. He didn't speak for a few minutes, his breath coming in short panting gasps as the pain ripped through him again. That meant the damage was worse than he'd thought. When his right arm cracked, the bones resetting, he nearly blacked out again, but held on.

  Five minutes later Peterson grimaced.

  "What the hell was that? You're only a boy, making you fight like that..."

  Timon laughed, but it came out as a snort, which made him look goofy. Like a child that couldn't control his reactions.

  "Apparently I am now a man. My parents will be so pleased to know that." He looked at his clothing, which had blood on and in it, real or not. Cycling his clothing amulet caused a dry powder to come off of him, and then let him have a clean black outfit again. There was blood in his hair, which wouldn't do for the rest of the day. "Seriously, I've already had several showers today. I should just sit in a tub until it's time for me to go and stand next to Trice."

  That got the man to nod.

  "We'll try to make sure that isn't needed. Let's go see what the Queen wants to do to you first. After that we'll get you that bath you need. You know, when I was fourteen my father just provided a woman for my present. No beatings involved at all, and I come from a military family."

  "The Royal Guards aren't exactly regular people, are they? It's what I get for being nice to them. They got confused and think I'm family now or something. Well, you can't pick your relations. We might as well go in."

  It was tempting to linger, but he really doubted that Aunt Connie would have a beating in mind for him. In fact, when they found her she actually looked scared.

  "Why is there blood all over your face? Is it yours?" She didn't touch him, but moved close, examining him for a long time.

  Count Peterson cleared his throat and actually winked at her, which got her to stand up straight and give the man a questioning look.

  "Did you know that your Royal Guards require their youngsters to fight when they become an adult? Three of them. One directly after the other. Don't concern yourself, all your guards are unharmed."

  There was a long silence and a concerned look, but that faded after just a moment.

  "I...see. Well, we can
let you clean up then and get ready. Do you want to eat first, or do you have butterflies in your stomach?" If she meant it in a mean way, she was hiding it pretty well. She actually seemed almost nice about the whole thing.

  Timon didn't trust it, but he knew enough about life not to let her see that. After all, she was his Aunt and the Queen. Those things would last for a long time, and making her hate him more than she did would be a mistake. It was one thing for her to find him inconvenient and annoying, but she was powerful enough to really make his life hard, without ever overtly attacking him, if she wanted.

  It was actually harder to find him an empty room with a tub in it than it sounded like it would be. They had a hundred such things around the King's Palace, but even this year, with few people bothering to travel, enough had come to stay for Noram Day that all the rooms were in use and a lot of them had more than one person staying in them. In the end he was taken to the very interior of the building, along a densely packed corridor of rooms and allowed to use a cold shower that the Royal Guards all took turns using.

  As the water hit him he winced, until the temperature control amulet he had on fixed things for him, making it seem comfortable, if not warm.

  When he got out and dressed again, he looked at Count Peterson, who was taking his job as guardian of the claim pretty seriously it seemed and made a face.

  "I get it. The Royal Guards are all hard and live without regular comforts. What I don't get is why? Does that actually make them stronger, or does it just cause them to be surly all the time? I mean, would a room temperature water tank be that expensive? I could hook a warm tank up in about ten minutes." Not that he would. After all, this had to be done on purpose, keeping them like that all the time, so they wouldn't be too soft or something. It was most likely part of their training. Like putting them in the very little rooms he was walking past. Some of the doors were open and showed that the space inside was barely big enough for a small pallet and a candle holder.

  For half a second he actually felt sorry for them. They weren't allowed any quality of life at all? They were probably given low quality food too then, or at least plain stuff all the time, so that they wouldn't mind if they weren't given something tasty? What kind of monster came up with their rules anyway?