by P. S. Power
The man nodded and bowed then, using first courtly. That was returned, with Erold bending his head enough to show he was there, if not part of the process of the moment.
“Thank you for the consideration. Now, as for payment? These aren’t gifts for the generals or their high captains, just something for everyone.” The fellow spoke as if that wasn’t good enough. Anders simply smiled.
“We’ll just deliver it to the generals and suggest that it’s a prize for them to have, since it will keep their men healthier, which is true, so it won’t be a lie even. That will dispose of a need to pay for transportation. You must have some investment in the materials and work already.”
That got the older man to snort a bit.
“True. Mainly in effort. The vintner gave me some old barrels in exchange for some elements that are useful in the making of fine spirits. In all, I’m not losing much in this, and truly, keeping the troops healthier now, means that there will be less to do later, when they return.” There was a more somber look then and a nod. “I noticed you did some fine work with those stricken in recent days with the red fever. That was and remains, incredible work. I don’t think anyone truly appreciates the skill that you’re showing in doing what you have. Not yet. In my whole life I’ve met only two or three healers that would have approached the same level. Are you considering going into that as your main focus?” The words were suddenly hard, as if Anders had better be thinking about that.
He shook his head though.
“I haven’t been thinking of that at all, for the time being. I’m to learn more of that kind of thing, of course, as part of my lessons, but I haven’t settled on a job, as of yet. For right now I’m mainly passing messages and making deliveries. That and working on fletching and bow making. Do you have need of a bow?” There was a smile then and the man waved the idea away.
“The fighting arts of the alchemist are very different than those of the bowman. Or weapons mage, come to that. Thank you for the offer, however, Master Brolly. Your other efforts as well. I’ll have those barrels packed and ready to transport shortly, to stand to your schedule and needs.”
They bowed again, and the man left, heading back into the meal.
As they walked away, Prince Erold chuckled.
“I thought for a moment that he was planning to have you passing potions and creams to court ladies all night. I know that you don’t love doing that kind of thing.”
Anders shrugged, understanding what his friend was getting at. He let him keep thinking what he was, even if it had never been the truth. Anders the boy hadn’t been bothered by making deliveries. It wasn’t hard or uncomfortable. It was simply that he’d enjoyed doing other things more, so had skipped out on what he was supposed to be doing.
In short, he’d been lazy and not concerned with the needs of others, not avoiding a difficult task or one that he feared to fail at.
Rather than point out that, since it would make him look bad, Farad waved to his friend.
“It isn’t as if I could get out of it, if that was needed. Master Seness is the Master Alchemist of the Court. Also, a good sort. Even when running things around was my main task, he made a point of making certain I could get to meals on time and sleep at night, instead of being at the task to all hours.” Truly, that was most people there, but not all.
More than once, even Anders, the worst of the message boys, had missed meals, making complicated deliveries to people, standing at their doors, to ensure personal passing of a message, while they were off eating.
The Prince gave a nod to the words.
“It’s impressive, him sending things for the care of the men there at the front like that. Now, if I don’t have to start learning to identify plants as of yet, I should get to my nightly chores. You now, where I go to the court and sit there, with my wife.” He looked sideways, then shook his head a bit. “Sweyn is nice enough, but our ways are very different here. I think she’s struggling with some things. I would be as well, if we were in her homeland. Remember to make time for a meeting with her, before we go. She asks after you, almost daily.”
There was a pat on the shoulder and then the other man walked away. Leaving Anders to head to his own room, finally able to get to the making of mail, if he could manage it. That task, it turned out, was a lot harder to manage than he’d figured.
The instant he pointed at the metal, naming it, and suggesting it turn into rings of mail where he outlined, he had to fight to hold to consciousness. The process worked, the metal shifting, drawing out and filling the desired space, the rings solid and with a fine inner diameter. Still, he’d only tried for a small patch of the stuff, meaning that warping a four by four-inch section of mail was a very high energy process. More so even than making something explode or setting it on fire, which it didn’t seem like it should be to him.
“Good thing you didn’t start with stone, then. So, what if I slow the whole thing down. Instead of doing this all now, what if I made less, over the course of an hour?”
He needed to create a new word to get the process to work, which meant that he ended up working until the small hours of the morning. He did manage to have a fine coat of mail however, that fit over his gambeson, by the time he laid down in the blackness of the night.
Anders forced himself up at first light, since he wanted to have that habit when they were on the road. He dreaded it, but cleaned up, washing and emptying his chamber pot, flinging the waste out into the early light, making it travel a good quarter mile away. It was without control, but he was able to aim at a hill in the distance well enough. Anything smaller would have been missed, totally. At least by him. Depak Sona had managed well enough flinging fire at him however, so it could be done. He just needed to work out how and then practice enough so he could do the same sort of thing.
Then he recolored his gambeson, since it was cool out that day, and after some thought, made a second coat of mail, needing the practice. That one was sized to match the example that Sir Humphrey had lent him. Then, because it had gone faster, and felt easier, lacking the whole nearly blacking out portion of things, he made a second long mail coat, near the same size, in case anyone needed one. Or, of course, in case General Nesmith had it destroyed, in testing. That was a thing he needed to see to, before trusting his life to the work. It looked good, but that didn’t mean it was armor quality.
So, carrying two gambesons, and two decently heavy mail shirts draped over his left arm, he moved off to find Sir Humphrey’s room, to return the things. He was wearing his own armor then, with his leather belt around it. That kept trying to slip, which probably meant he was going to need to learn to make buckles as well. Having a heavy belt clearly helped, since it allowed him to carry part of the weight of the metal on his hips, sharing the load with his shoulders.
He didn’t know which room would be Sir Humphries, but, as it turned out, he didn’t need to. The man himself dressed in about the same kind of armor that Anders was, even if that was odd inside the castle if you weren’t a guard. Those men had more on, since they wore metal helms as well, when at their duty stations. The man stopped and looked at him when he nodded.
“You look in fine stead there, Brolly. That mail is... May I?” He held a hand out, to touch it, but waited for permission.
Anders nodded.
“Here, I made one for you that should fit. If not, I can change the size, easily enough. I have another, for that testing General Nesmith mentioned. That’s a good idea. Testing it.”
The man took the mail, which was resting on the top, looked at it and stroked it. Then, rather brutally, he grabbed one side of it and pulled so hard that it had to be cutting his hands, or nearly so.
There was a grunt then, followed by a smile.
“Ha! So, the first test passed. Low quality mail can’t hold to that. Not from me. This...” He examined it and his nose twitched a bit before he spoke. It made his mustache move. “This shows no sign of me having done anything at all. Not even a single stret
ched link. That’s a good sign. I’ll get with the general and set a time for that test. If he can’t make it, we’ll do it anyway. Now, this is more than I lent you.”
Anders shrugged.
“I needed the practice, plus, it’s partial payment for the loan.”
He bowed then, using first courtly. It was harder to do, being in armor like he was.
The other man did a partial bow in return, his hand loaded.
“Thank you for the consideration. I should get some for my squire. If it passes the testing, of course. He’s going to outgrow the set he has soon.”
Anders nodded.
“Would it be possible to do that later tonight? After the testing, if possible. I need to get into town too, if I can.” Which meant getting with Master Tolan, who was holding his coin for him. Hopefully that hadn’t been spent on other projects yet. Technically it was his, being war booty, but masters owned the labor of their apprentices, which could mean that it was gone or wouldn’t be given to him. If that was the case, he was going to have to scramble to get animals in place to pull his cart. Really, it could be withheld, just to force him to find another way to get things done.
It would be a good lesson, but he wasn’t going to mention that to Master Tolan, since he didn’t really need more to do at the moment.
Anders thought for a few seconds, then shrugged.
“Um... I need to do some things, so passing a message might not be easily done today. Would it be allowed for me to find you and where I’m supposed to be to meet you, at various times? I can do it so I won’t get any other information from you. Really, I’d have to try to do more than that, so... It’s magic, though.” Also, the man would have to trust him not to find out things he didn’t want known, like his true opinion of Anders.
“Do it. When we meet, bring expendable examples of that mail and your gambeson. You can do that?” There was close look then, as if he was asking for too much.
“I can. I have the materials needed and should be able to find time. I need another gambeson. That will take me about half an hour to make. Less than that, but you know, I need to make it look nice as well, so I don’t look poor.”
That got the other man to simply agree.
“An important thing, here at court. Good then. I’ll see you then.”
The fellow walked away with purpose, heading in the opposite direction than he had when Anders had stopped him. Probably so he could put the new and returned gear away, before seeing to his day.
Without knowing if it was proper at all, given the early time of day, Anders moved to Master Tolan’s tower room. The hall guard, dressed all in gray, nodded at him.
“Brolly.”
“Hello. I need to speak to Master Tolan, but I don’t know if he’s awake for the day. Which...” He shrugged and closed his eyes, falling into a trance and then moving to the idea of Master Tolan. When he touched the man, who was awake, he sensed that there was an awareness of his presence.
So he moved from that state and took a deep breath.
“He should know I’m coming now. I have to beg for coin, so if you hear stern shouting and sounds of crying, you’ll know why.” It was a jest.
A thing that the guard didn’t respond to at all.
“Understood. Best luck then, in getting that.”
The room itself was on the second floor of the tower, which was one of the coveted spaces at the castle. They were large and had a certain pride of place to them, even if they weren’t special in any other fashion. That Master Tolan had one simply meant the man was valued there.
At the correct door, Anders tapped three times, which had the door opened almost instantly, as if the other man had been waiting for him on the other side of it.
“Anders! Come in. What may I do for you this day?”
Looking down, then into the room the man lived in, which had a bed behind screens on the far portion of it, a sitting area, and a desk with several chairs, including a very large one that was covered in pillows and fabric, Anders cleared his throat.
“Gold. Possibly silver. I don’t know about that kind of thing, to be honest. How to spend coin like that? I’ve never really handled it. I need to purchase two oxen and then food for nearly twenty people, three week’s worth. I don’t know if I have enough in that little sack of it your holding for me. Or if that might be needed for other work.” He managed to sound humble enough, which was fine, given he truly was out of his depths there.
Master Tolan smiled.
“Hmm. Well, you have more than enough for just that. It isn’t a true fortune, but I wager you’ll be on your way to it, once you sell the armor that you took in battle.” The man looked at him then, mainly his mail shirt and nodded. “You made this? It’s fresh. I can feel the magic all over it. The workmanship is fine, as well. Excellent, I’d wager. It certainly looks good, if nothing else.”
Anders took a breath then, feeling slightly nervous about what was to come, later in the day.
“Sir Humphrey and possibly some others are planning a test of it. I made more. I need another cloth armor shirt, but I can go do that now. After I get the coin. I... Should probably take someone with me for that, who knowns how to use that kind of thing.” It sounded strange, but growing up in the castle, Anders had never actually dealt with that kind of thing.
Farad hadn’t either, since it simply wasn’t used in his prior life. Not for a monastic historian. People had simply given him things, in return for his work and saw to his care. Meaning he was nearly totally unprepared for the real world in that fashion now.
Toland stood straighter.
“Very well. We should do that directly after the morning meal? I’m in with the King and his family for that. I don’t know if I can bring a guest. One moment?” The man left the room then, and didn’t return for some ten minutes. When he did, he was smiling.
“King Mathias would love for you to attend the meal, as it turns out, Master Brolly. We should go now?” There was a relaxed sense of urgency in the words, probably meaning that asking about him going had, nearly, made the other man late.
Which, Anders had to allow, wasn’t a good thing to do, with the King being involved. Still, he headed for the door, a heavy, no doubt fortified, piece of equipment meant to hold up to attack or siege, and closed it. All such things in the higher portions of the castle, where the great folk lived, had extremely strong looking hinges and some form of lock on the door, at least from the inside. Anders room didn’t even have a bar on it.
Meaning that, if they were ever attacked there, he was either expected to not be in his room, hiding, or he was just supposed to die. That no one cared for him at that level was a bit annoying, to the boy within, but Farad actually figured it differently than that. The boy was probably expected to have been elsewhere, totally. A thing which would be coming soon, he didn’t doubt.
There were no other children there, other than those of the servants and while they had quarters and places there, only a few of those even existed. There were, out of several hundred people that lived and worked in the great stone keep, only ten to fifteen people youthful enough to be counted as children any longer. When he thought of those, only one of them hadn’t really worked, until recently. Even Prince Erold and Princess Mathia no doubt had lessons and work of some kind, other than making the odd delivery.
Normally, someone like him wouldn’t have been at the castle at all, or, if he was, his mother would have stayed with him. Lyse, however, had never done that sort of thing. At least not that Anders could recall. So, he’d been stored away from her, in what was basically a servant’s room. One for those high enough to be valued, but it wasn’t a sign of anything more than that.
They moved at a quick walk, but it wasn’t a half run, and were at the dining room that the King and Queen used in the mornings. This day, when he walked into the room, there weren’t that many people there, and no one had a plate in front of them, as yet. At the head of the table, King Mathias held up his right hand, and smi
led, in a friendly enough fashion.
“Master Brolly! Good morning. Please, come and join us. I’ve missed you at court, over the last days.” It was a very odd thing to say. A strange one, that sounded completely normal. No one at the table was unknown to him, so it wasn’t meant to impress them with his assumed, and false, importance.
He settled where the King pointed, placing him near the Queen. Directly next to her, in fact. A place far too high up the table for any sort of normal occurrence. As he sat, he bowed his head, having forgotten to bow formally at all. That was the shock of the words, he didn’t doubt. His eyes closing, he dropped into a trance. Trying to first feel the meaning of what the King was saying, then noticing a horrible buzzing of magic, coming from behind him.
Feeling the shape, that of a person, he nodded. It was a woman, he thought. One behind a warping that was so powerful he couldn’t physically see her. At least he hadn’t when going into the room. There was no sense of malice from the form, in particular. Just observation. Everyone else in the room knew that there were spies about, having had warning. He hadn’t, in particular, but then, he wasn’t supposed to be at the morning meal like he was at the moment.
Eyes still closed, he nodded, then smiled, so everyone could see it. Except the magical spy that stood behind them. The feeling of the room was that they wanted to spread disinformation. Things that seemed real, without giving away things that would be advantageous to the enemy.
The form itself, once he noticed it, wasn’t that big. Smaller than he was, in fact. A woman as well. He wasn’t certain, but his guess, based on the feeling from her, was that it would be Mistress Colm, the herb woman. If so, then herbs were a lot more powerful than he’d been told, because she was totally invisible at the moment.
If it was her and he wasn’t simply maligning a good woman, based on fear or mere happenstance, then she already knew certain things about him. That he’d been working in magic and doing other lessons, as well as some light, but important, healing.
