by P. S. Power
It was dark when they pulled up to the gate, a Royal Guard walked up to the carriage carefully and held up an oil lamp so that he could see who was trying to get in at this time of night. He greeted the Prince by name and asked, very politely, as to who else might be with him. With each name spoken the man checked a thick bundle of papers to see if they were allowed entrance.
“Sir… we seem to have everyone listed except for Mr. Baker. I’m afraid that I can’t allow anyone not listed in, by order of the King, Sir…” The man looked… not pleased at least. Tor just shrugged.
After all, why would he be on the guest list at all anyway? They hadn’t known he was coming. That the others were on it, well, they’d been Rolph friends for a lot longer than he had, at least as far as palace visits were concerned. Right? And Trice was even family and Sara was Rolph’s “special friend” which Connie knew personally. Or, well, maybe they just didn’t want someone like him here right now? Save room for the important people?
“Uh…” Rolph looked around for a second. “Right, well, no use arguing with a Royal Guard, would you be all right waiting here for a minute while I get this sorted out Tor? It won’t take but bit I’m sure…”
His friend sounded embarrassed, like it was something he’d done that caused this inconvenience. Tor just hoped that he could find someplace to stay if they wouldn’t let him in here, at least for the night. He could always fly back to the school the next day if not, but it would suck waiting for ten hours until it was light enough to fly. He climbed out of the carriage so that it could drive in, wondering if he should grab his trunks as the carriages disappeared into the palace complex. Too late for that, he realized. So he wondered around for a bit.
An hour passed and no one came back for him, not even to tell him to go make other arrangements. At two hours he kind of wondered if he’d just been ditched all together. He didn’t even have any coin on him, what he had being in his main trunk, so getting something to eat in town was out of the picture. Not that he was hungry particularly, but it would at least give him something to do and a place to sit. The guards were changed over about then and the new ones didn’t know who he was, so they asked him to move away from the gate all together.
Asked… was a little more polite than they really were about it. They kind of threatened to hurt him if he didn’t leave right then, even after he explained the situation and who he was waiting for. Not knowing what else to do and not really wanting both his legs broken at the knees as offered, he turned and wondered back into the city. The streets were dark now and, as it had neared midnight, no one was out on them at all, except for him and a few women that looked lonely, standing out on the street corners in their distinctive tall boots, asking him if he wanted to spend some time with them.
Not even Tor was so naive that he didn’t get it.
Still, they didn’t seem happy with their work at all, not to him. Then again, how much work could they be getting if no one else was out on the street right now? He kept on walking after explaining that he didn’t have any coin at the moment. Oddly they were all pleasant enough about it, winking at him and telling him they knew how that was. Even though he couldn’t be their customer, they smiled at him and said nice things, which was sweet. Tor had never met any women like that before and had expected, well, that they’d be bad. Mean or course. Instead they just seemed like people. Fairly pleasant ones even, that didn’t hold his being poor against him.
No one tried to stop him, or rob him, which wouldn’t have worked anyway. Even if he hadn’t been armed and wearing a pretty good shield, what would they have gotten, some amulets? Those might be worth a little. Maybe he could trade one for a meal or somewhere to stay? If he could find anyone to trade with. Even the prostitutes had gone in by the time he’d thought of it. Not that he wanted to trade for their services, but maybe they’d have known someone, or where he should go?
So instead he just wondered, hoping that when light broke he’d at least be able to see the wall and figure out where one of the gates was. His feet were getting sore from all the walking, but it just didn’t feel right to sit down anywhere. Most of it was either in the street itself or someone’s private property. Sitting in the street was a bad idea in general, plus it would look weird. No one did that. With private property, well, someone might let him sit or even lie down and take a nap, if he could explain things to them. But no one was out yet.
Hours later he finally saw someone moving, opening the door to what looked like a small shop. Tor didn’t want to spook the woman, who looked about ten years older than he was, even though it was hard to tell in the light. He stood well back and called out to her.
“Excuse me please,” he started, causing the woman to turn around and look at him, smiling a little.
“Let me stop you there.” She held out her right hand, about half way into the room behind her already, as if ready to run if she needed to.
“I’m not a prostitute, don’t have any money to steal, and don’t have any work for you for the duration of the festival, unless you can bake or know the city well enough to do deliveries. So…”
Tor laughed a little.
“I don’t know the city at all, but I can bake. At least I can for the country; I grew up in a bakery, literally. But I was wondering-” The woman cut him off.
“Alright. I’ll bet you to making some things. If you can do it without burning half of the product, I’ll give you room and board, plus half a silver per week for the duration of the festival. Not to dazzle you with my clever math, that means half a silver all told. You’re here to work though, not goof off all day or ogle the girls that come in and if you pinch my behind even once you’re out on your ear. Deal?”
It sounded like he could at least get off the street for a while, so he agreed. Especially since she wouldn’t let him finish a sentence otherwise. It kind of reminded him of home already.
Board meant she fed him, right?
The interior of the shop was much nicer than what he’d grown up with, but the ovens were almost identical. Large brick things that took up the back wall of the space completely. Tor started the fire without being asked; using a single match from the small stone box she had next to the fire tools, which got a nod from the proprietress. While he did that she started lighting oil lamps so they’d be able to see what they did.
Once she had the four lamps they were going to be using going, she turned and stared at him for a bit. “Oh! You’re a bit older than I thought, what, about fourteen or so?”
Tor fought not to sigh at her with a hangdog look. Instead he grinned a bit wryly.
“Seventeen. My name’s Tor. Torrance Baker actually.” He looked around for the starter and flour, which were kept away from the stove here, since it was already warm enough for dough to rise. It would die if it got too active overnight, most likely, given the heat.
“Tor? Like the magic river? Well, easy to remember at least. Call me Debbie.”
“Isn’t the river called the Falcon’s?” He asked her innocently. He kind of wanted that name to catch hold, but feared it might be too late already.
The brunette shook her head a little. “Not that I’ve ever heard. “The River Tor” after the great wizard that built it. Why would it be named after a bird?”
Tor explained about the three bronze statues that held it aloft while they started for the day, really trying to sell the majesty of it, how it looked like their wings were lofting the clear stream of water into the air. That wasn’t exactly something he knew first hand, but it sounded good.
They moved quickly, the woman seemed pleased enough with his work at first, and even more pleased when he got everything out of the ovens in time. That, of course, was the real secret to baking. Paying attention to what was going on. By the time light began to show through the clear and decently large windows in the front of the shop, they had racks filled with breads, rolls and sweet confections already cooling for the day.
“Those small hand-pies you’re working
on are the big favorite during the festival, kind of local tradition. Fruit, meat, even the vegetable ones will sell out. If you feel hungry yet, try one of the beef pies when you take them out of the oven. Let it cool a bit first, of course.” He face held a smile for him as she said the words.
Now that he had enough light to see her by, she looked a lot younger than he’d thought, maybe early twenties. Her hair was brown and held up under a kerchief, and she looked well fed. Not fat by any means, but healthy and clear skinned. She reminded him a lot of Terlee, only taller, about six foot, and more outgoing. She told him stories about her life as she worked.
“How about you Tor? What do you do when you’re not busy being a festival baker?”
“Other than being ditched in a strange city by my friends? I’m a student, as the brown outfit suggests. I go to school up in Lairdgren near the top of the County. I’m there on a King’s scholarship and came down for the week with friends. Well that… and I make magic rivers and other bits of magic of course in my spare time. I guess I should have stuck with baking though, huh? That or just stayed at school for King’s week. They didn’t let me in the palace at all, and her I thought the King and Queen kind of liked me.” His voice had gone playful enough that he didn’t sound bitter about the whole thing, he thought. Debbie just smiled and kept working, nodding her head as if he’d told a bad joke. Tor darted to one of the ovens and pulled out a tray of full wheat loaves then freed them from the sheet they were on and set aside on the stout wire racks to cool.
Debbie stood stirring a bowl of icing, which would coat the sweet hand pies she’d told him earlier. It sounded good to him. The meat pie he’d had earlier was good enough that he could see why they were a traditional favorite at least. The apple and peach they were making right now scented the whole room wonderfully.
“Well Tor, it sounds like you need to make some new friends if that’s how they treat you. Why would anyone do that? Abandoning their friend that far from home. Anyway, their loss, my gain. You have the job by the way.” She kept working as she spoke.
“Thanks!” That she thought he was good enough to work with her filled him with a quiet sense of pride. It could be hard to impress strangers after all, and this woman was obviously good at her job. You probably didn’t keep a shop in the Capital if you weren’t.
At least now he wouldn’t have to rush back to the school or worry about starving. Plus, Debbie was nice. He’d hate to see her struggling with increased traffic and losing sales because she couldn’t make things fast enough.
After about nine in the morning, people started coming in a steady stream, brightly colored in festival clothes even this early and mainly smiling. It was fun and uplifting. Finally Debbie had to just go to the cash box and help customers the whole time, leaving Tor to make more pies as fast as he could. It went on like that for hours without a break, but he kept up with the demand, almost.
At about three in the afternoon he heard Debbie talking to someone in the front.
“I don’t know… let me ask my assistant.” The voice that called from the front was crisp and business like, but friendly all the same. “Tor, do we have any of the peach hand pies ready for sale? We’re out up front.”
They did, sitting on the cooling rack, the hard clear glaze just dry enough, if they packaged them carefully. He pulled the whole tray and moved with it carefully towards the front.
“Yes! Still warm from the oven…” He nearly stumbled when he saw who was asking for them. A tall blond woman wearing a nice dress made of a light colored fabric that would almost pass for white, but was really a soft lavender. It took Tor a second to remember her name though, since they’d only met the one time.
“Ah! Collette, isn’t it? Baronetta Coltress? We met at that party, you were there with Tovey?” He reminded her, in case she’d forgotten him already. It could happen; he’d been far from the most impressive person in the room that night after all.
“Tor?” Her hands came up in front of her slightly, clutching each other. She didn’t look worried or anything, just a bit surprised.
“What are you doing here?”
He explained the whole being ditched thing and how he’d gotten a job baking for the duration of King’s week. She blinked as if he was telling a bad joke.
“But… you could stay with any number of people, couldn’t you? Why I’m sure Tovey would love to have you and of course I’d gladly open my own home…”
It was really sweet of her to offer, but he’d already promised Debbie that he’d help her out, hadn’t he? He made a point of explaining carefully and winked at her as she left with a full sack of various kinds of pies.
“I have to keep my word after all, or what point is there to speaking?” She blinked at him for several seconds and then gave him an odd smile and a tiny bow.
“Words to live by.” She said, very softly, and then left, smiling just a little and looking at him over her shoulder, even as she walked away.
Tor went back to work. They left the ovens to burn down starting at six, but kept the doors open late. Debbie had Tor do most of the cleanup work, which wasn’t hard or anything, and not even boring, because it was a new place, to him at least. At nine she showed him to a little cubby in the back. It had a small cot in it, and a thin blanket and pillow ready to sleep on. The room was tiny and he felt glad he wasn’t one of the tall royals, because then he’d never be able to fit in it. It was decently clean though, looking like it got swept out pretty often and everything. No bugs even, but that was important in a bakery. Want to lose customers? Let them find insects in their bread.
“It isn’t much but…”
It would do. Tor just wished he had his luggage, so that he could use his toothbrush before bed. When he mentioned it, Debbie held up a finger.
“I have an old one here… I know it’s a little gross, using someone’s old toothbrush. It hasn’t been used for years though, so anything on it should have died by now.”
She could have used it in front of him first and he still would have gone ahead and brushed with it. After the last day he needed it too badly to quibble over a few germs. She locked the front door as she left, giving him a smile over her shoulder. He could get out from the inside, but no one could just walk in by mistake. He was tired enough that even being in a strange place didn’t keep him from sleeping soundly, hardly even tossing on the hard cot. He woke up with a start when he heard the door open in the morning.
“Rise and shine sleepy head!” The woman sounded far too cheery for this time of day, but he made himself get up anyway. She’d probably gotten less sleep than he had after all, having to walk home and back. Saint that she was, she let him have fifteen minutes to get ready, wash and brush his teeth again before they started. It wasn’t a full bath of course, but he used a bucket of water to scrub up as well as he could behind the shop. He’d have to figure out what to do about his clothing soon, or he’d end up with yeast growing all over them. Then he’d smell like beer all the time without even drinking.
The day went faster since he knew what he was doing and they couldn’t really stop working if they wanted to keep up with demand. Solid work always helped to pass the time, he knew. Debbie ran from the front to the back as he scurried around trying to keep up with everything. For him it was the fastest he’d ever moved while baking by far. At least he had his equalizing amulet. Tor felt a little bad for Debbie, who was obviously uncomfortable most of the time. Not bad enough to give up his own amulet… yet, but he felt himself getting there.
He had a few more ready to go, sitting in his luggage. Somewhere in the palace if they hadn’t just put it all out on the street. Rolph better not have let that happen. Even if he wasn’t important enough to be a guest there, just dumping his stuff would be rude. Most of what he owned was in those two cases. Things weren’t important, not really, but they could be handy. For instance it would be nice to have his own toothbrush and soap.
At noon Debbie let him have a break, a few minutes to e
at a couple of the hand pies, that and bread being what they had extra of at the moment, and wash it down with a few cups of water. He just sat on the floor in the back while he ate, looking through the door at the people coming in. That’s why he noticed when the sun went away.
It hadn’t really gone, of course, it was just that a really large person stood in front of the windows looking in. A few seconds later the blond man entered the shop, looking around curiously.
Tovey.
Tor brushed off some crumbs and wiped his mouth with his hand before standing all the way up. He’d finished anyway. Count Thomson looked around for a few seconds as Tor walked out from the back. Debbie’s eyes goggled a bit.
“May I help you my lord?” She actually stood up from the wooden stool she used and curtsied, not that Tovey could see her behind the counter.
“Tovey! Enjoying the festival?” Tor felt happy to see the familiar face. True, he could, in a pinch, just walk to the nearest gate and leave the city on his own, even fly back to school by flying north and following land marks, but inside the city… He actually had no idea where he was.
“There you are! Everyone’s been off looking for you. Alphonse has been half convinced that you’d gotten yourself kidnapped by a whore master and set to servicing tourists, and Connie wanted to send out the troops to search every part of the kingdom for you. I would have shown up with everyone in tow, but I wanted to make sure you were really here first myself. Collette told me you were. She also told me to mention that the hand pies were very good by the way. She’ll probably be back in tomorrow for more. The Baron, her father, particularly enjoyed the apple raisin ones with icing. I was asked to make a point of telling you that.”
Tor made a mental note of it. He could have some of those ready, he let Tovey know.
“Ohhh, hey, if everyone isn’t hating on Tor right now, do you think someone would send my luggage over? I’d kill for a clean shirt and my razor, you know?”
