The Builder (The Young Ancients)

by Power, P. S.

  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.

  That sounded about right to him. At least in the current situation he could smile at her and raise his eyebrows in agreement. The woman pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to him. The paper was thick and high quality, almost card stock in a rich cream color. The writing on it was lovely, obviously professionally done.

  “Meredith Anne Sorvee? Um... I don't think I've had the pleasure of meeting her?” That would have to do as far as politeness was concerned. A Sorvee? The two of them
he'd met to talk to were both... Well, one of them had tried to rip him off, and the other was a bully that he couldn't stand. Tor couldn't say that out loud, not in front of this woman who was, most likely, some kind of agent for them, even if her real job was just to propose a marriage, his reaction had to be... proper. He made himself smile and tried to make it touch his eyes warmly.

  “I'd love to know more about her and to discuss this with my advisors here. I understand that my low social standing might be a difficult factor for her to overcome and... I don't want to drag her down. I...” He was trying to be self-effacing, but the Queen and her sister both suddenly started talking him up as if he were the next Count of Wonderfulness. Kind of them, but it didn't help his escape plan at all.

  He started to flounder a little, his heart beating faster in his chest. He didn't want to be connected to Sorvee. Just the fact that Dorgal was one of them tainted the whole group in his mind. That probably wasn't really fair, of course. For all he knew this girl, who turned out to be a widow and nearly thirty, according to the go between, was the sweetest woman in the world and everything he could ask for.

  Except she wasn't, because she had that one glaring black splotch in her family tree. Maybe. Dorgal. Ugh. That simply couldn't be accepted.

  Tor looked around for help, but Connie and Mercy seemed to think that this would be a wonderful idea. Scrambling, his mind fought to come up with something. Anything.

  The only thing that came was a vast, long distance, destructive combat lance. Not a bad idea as far as a project went, in case of sudden war or if he ever went insane and wanted to destroy big chunks of the world, but not anything that would help him right now.

  Scrambling he decided to try something desperate, hoping that the Queen and Mercy would at least get the idea that he was buying time and not just shut him down immediately.

  “Um, the only problem here is that... last night at the party I was, um, asked to marry someone else, so that plan is already in the works.... It's a complicated thing, and may not work at all, but it predates this and well, I do love her...” She'd said for him to say that and really, it was even true as far as it went, he loved her as a friend and really, marriage wasn't normally about love anyway, but the business of having a family. The situation was impossible of course, in reality, and she was too tall for him, but for now... Maybe it could act as a shield, at least until his head cleared? A Trice-shield?

  Now all he had to do was find her and tie her to his arm.

  Everyone looked at him with interest, even the go between, who didn't look put out. Then again he hadn't said no, and indicated that this other situation was complicated. That meant a high likelihood of failure in theory, which was even literally true.

  “Now, I don't want anyone to feel insulted, my station just isn't very high, so... well, we've been going slowly, but it wouldn't be fair to hide this any longer, even though not everything is in place yet.” He glanced at Connie, hoping she'd protect him from Mercy for what he was about to say. Maybe he could enlist Varley too? The girl was kind to him, and wicked smart. Now if he could have gotten her to marry him... The idea almost made him lose it and start laughing. Easier to get her married to a pig. Well, a royal pig at least. There would have to be that closure of separation in rank after all. Three steps. So a Duke pig at least? Oink.

  Connie didn't push him, but she was clearly interested in what he had to say.

  “Well... the presents for the Morgans were supposed to just be the start of a campaign to soften them up to our cause and I have to try and do something to earn a title from the King, but, um, Trice, Patricia Alyson Morgan, she asked me to marry. Herself. She said all the words and everything.” He wanted to duck his head, or activate his shield, which he got ready to do anyway in case Mercy went into a combat rage and started to try and take his head off. Who could blame her?

  Instead she merely nodded.

  “She did mention something about this the other day. It's... well, it's a bit of a long shot, gaining a title like that, but... well, as a Ducherina third, she isn't in line to inherit much, but brings some small properties with her. I was waiting to discuss it with the King himself, honestly. What do you think Connie, should we pursue this? Should we let them pursue it?” Her voice didn't have the normal playful lilt he would have expected from her. Still, she was backing his bid to buy time, so he smiled at her worriedly and did the same with the Queen.

  Karina sighed.

  “Darn. I knew I should have asked you last week myself! Even if mother said I had to honor the engagement I have...”

  Next to him Varley patted his arm and grinned. “It's Tor. Of course he can swing a title. He's already helping to save a county and did that heroic well thing saving those kids, that should at least get him knighted, if he keeps it up anyway. Three heroic acts, that's the rule, isn't it? That's two already and some of what gets counted as heroic... Really, between the magic river, saving those kids and Galasia...” The Princess suddenly looked very thoughtful, eyes going a little wide for a few seconds. Then she obviously recovered herself and grinned.

  “Well, I think he should have to earn it. Fight a monster or maybe sail around the world in a boat he made with his own hands. Or make some kind of new device to prove he's serious about my cousin, since that seems to be his thing, building stuff. It has to be new though, none of this recycling something you already made Tor. If we let that happen everyone will be trying to do it, and that would get tiresome.” Now her voice held a teasing lilt. She nudged his arm gently and got him another cup of that beverage.

  He almost laughed at the idea of him fighting a monster, but the Queen just agreed that it seemed rather possible, all things considered. The King could shut it all down instantly of course, she warned. But until that happened, since Trice had asked first, she needed to be given a chance to give it a go. Tor sighed in relief.

  Somewhere in there they'd all figured out what he was trying to do and decided to work with him? Thank god. The go-between outlined her plan, an attempt to explain how interested he was, while also showing that he had prior interests that had to be examined first. It would, she assured, be handled delicately and it was, after all, not a “no” just a request to see where love might take him. Even merchants had room in their hearts for a romantic story.

  After the woman left he almost melted out of his chair, the soft red cushion on the seat holding him in just enough. That had been too close. What would he have said if he hadn't come up with that bit about Trice? The audacity of the claim, even just as a ruse to throw off Sorvee was incredible. Now they just had to make it look good in public. He could only hope that Trice wouldn't be so insulted that she killed him.

  Mercy, not even seeming angry with him about saying those things involving her daughter, left at the same time that the go between did. Trice's mom seemed amused by him at least and didn't even wait to scream at him or anything. Good enough.

  Connie sent him off to his room to work on something, anything he wanted, but asked him not to leave the palace for a bit. Tor didn't have anywhere to go anyway, and no money to spend in town even if he went, so told her that he'd be running up some new specs for flying devices, there were some things that needed to be fixed on the original design anyway.

  For instance, if he could figure out how to let people breathe at best speed, they could go a lot faster without too much trouble. The field itself just had to allow for greater organization along the path of movement to increase that without stress on the field. That should keep it from heating the amulet uncomfortably. Having enough air to breathe easily was really the big limiting factor right now. He also needed a left hand control unit. They were all minor things, but it could make a big difference in flight, especially against the Austrans, who had machines that could fly so fast they roared like thunder as they traveled. Tor had never seen one, but Kolb had told him about them.

  It sounded scary.

  Using the field on his current flight gear as a guide, he was
able to make up the new template inside a day. He hadn't meant to take that long, but the idea caught his interest and he figured out that he didn't have to do all the work over again, just make one simple change, the controls being on the left, and add a field that would catch air as it passed and funnel it to the mouth and nose, while allowing the air to be constantly refreshed. That way the exhalations of the person flying wouldn't foul the air around them too much to breathe after a couple of minutes. Add a slightly stronger basic field and boom, faster flying. Fix the turning controls so they weren't as sensitive... Then, just because he didn't want to risk Sorvee rage yet, he made up a hundred copies of the new field.

  No one could fault him for dodging the problem if he was actively working could they?

  Of course they could, but he doubted that merchants would. Product meant money to their minds; they probably put that poor woman, Meredith, up to it just in order to steal his working contracts with Debri house anyway.

  Really, it was a good plan.

  Dorgal had probably told them how Tor couldn't get a girl on his own, and that he'd probably be willing to take anyone offered without thinking about it. Then, after he did, well, of course he'd have backed his new family first. That was just normal and polite. Luckily for him Meredith didn't have a different last name. If not for the connection to Dorgal he probably would have just said yes. Just having someone make the offer was flattering enough that he would have taken it, most likely.

  Then Tor turned around and spent half a week designing the cargo floats, and making a hundred copies of those as well. After that... Well, he had some drying units to make and nearly five days left before he and Rolph could escape back to school. To safety.

  Rolph, naturally, had been spending almost all his time with Sara, and who could blame him? The girl was great after all and did things with Rolph that Tor didn't even know about exactly, except what he'd seen animals doing out in the fields. It surprised him a little bit when his big friend popped in at lunch the day he finished everything he could figure out to do for the time being and sat down, with a huge grin on his face.