The Builder tya-1 Read online

  Picking up his own fork Rolph took a large bite of salad and looked at his mother with a smile. Chewing carefully until he swallowed. He followed this with a wink.

  “Food's safe.”

  The woman at the head of the table performed a slow seated half bow towards Tor and smiled herself. “Honored,” she said, then took a bite of her own salad.

  The rest of the meal went like that, until the dessert course, which Tor let Rolph try first. No one seemed upset that he'd eaten first, but it seemed like a big deal, special instead of just being greedy. By dessert he was just too full to continue. He didn't want to waste food, but his stomach felt almost over full and short of the mid-winter feast for Noram Day he couldn't remember ever eating that much before.

  He explained this to his hostess, and realized to his embarrassment that he didn't know her name yet. Rolph had never mentioned it before, since he called his mother “mom” when he referenced her. Tor did the same thing even though at home he called his mother “ma” like everyone else.

  The woman brushed her long hair back with a wave of the hand. It moved as if a single piece, so tied back or something, Tor guessed. Smiling she looked at him and chuckled.

  “Constance, but everyone around here just calls me Connie. Well, not in public, except for Alphonse here, but that would be good enough, since we're all friends.” Her voice had a playful lilt to it, light and pleasant. Then she was probably used to making small talk with stogy businessmen and women, so being nice had to come easily to her.

  Tor nodded. It was a little weird calling her by name instead of “Rolph's mom” the way he would if he'd been at home, or “ma'am” like he would at school, but this was a different place and he was, if not a full adult, old enough that people would be expecting him to learn their names. He was old enough to sign contracts and make business deals even. Or get married, being over fourteen.

  After the dessert course the small talk began, which was mainly Connie asking him about his life at home and about how her son “Alphonse” was doing at school. Not his grades or anything, but how he fit in, what trouble he'd gotten himself into and the like.

  “Home is… a lot different than here. For one thing, no servants at all. No one has ever served food to me except my mother…” It sounded stupid when he said it and he blushed, but Rolph shook his head.

  “Not true! I distinctly remember Trice serving you on more than one occasion, even feeding you with her own hand…” He made it sound sly, as if there had been meaning to it other than the girl thinking he was too weak or inept to do it for himself.

  Without missing a beat Connie's eyebrows shot up.

  “Oh! Well, if Patricia already has a claim on him you might want to talk to your sister. She confided in me already that she intends to skip the arranged marriage her father and I set her with Raul Peterson and pursue Mr. Baker here instead. Karina, not Varley. It seems that your friend has already been plying them both with lavish gifts…”

  Tor blushed and ducked his head. He could tell they were only teasing, much like his own family would have, but the fact that girls didn't have much use for him was a bit of a sore spot, even if Connie couldn't possibly know that about him yet, unless Rolph had told her, which didn't seem likely. Or maybe she got it just by looking at him? After a few seconds of this Rolph held his hand out and asked what the gifts were, probably trying to change the subject a bit.

  Connie smiled. “A set of those room cooling and warming plates each.” Her tone held, not amusement, but a sense of being impressed. Tor didn't get it, unless handmade stuff was valued here for some reason? Like when his mom seemed no more thrilled about a new coat from the store as she did a picture drawn by the youngest child and given as a gift? Probably what it was, he realized, looking around the room a little. Even to rent such a space would take more money than Tor could imagine spending, and given that he was, well, just him, he doubted that was the case. They didn't rent this to impress him, it was something they already had just sitting empty and waiting. It was just convenient to store him here for them.

  Really, they could have fed him stale bread and had him sleep in the corner of Rolph's room and he wouldn't have blinked. He doubted that he would have even noticed, except that he'd have offered to make some fresh bread for them. So this was… normal for these people? It boggled his mind more than a little. A lot more.

  Connie let them go shortly thereafter claiming to be tired. Probably a bit bored with him, Tor realized, which was fair enough. They didn't seem to have a lot in common. She seemed kind, obviously willing to go out of her way to make her son's friend feel comfortable, but that didn't mean his nattering on about school would interest her for long. It was nice, how she put him at his ease like she had, like he was a real guest or important. He'd have to come up with a gift for her too. Rolph didn't know what she might want when asked, but Tor had an idea anyway, since the heat was so bad here and she seemed to be locked in to wearing a heavy dress all the time, at least in company.

  Once back in his room he started building the field he'd already planned out, it was similar enough to others he'd made before that it didn't take that long to finish, only about ten hours. Then another two to make a full batch of the devices and two more for the next batch. He decided that people might actually want these, or at least take them as casual gifts. He tested them by walking in and out of the house several times. It felt nice, inside or out, with only a few seconds fluctuation to let him know that the temperature had changed at all. Perfect.

  He strung five on some hemp string he had in the trunk so they could be worn as amulets. He didn't have any more thread, so he just pocketed five of the other small copper plates. He made a simple stencil and lacking any acid, quickly made a small design on each bit of metal by rubbing some sand he found in the garden over them. It wasn't deep, but it showed the sigil clearly enough and shouldn't wear away too easily.

  At about noon a knock came at the door. Too tentative to be Rolph, who would have just walked in, so Tor went to the door to find a tidy and extremely good looking man standing with an arm load of clothing. The man was taller than Tor, but only by about five inches, which would have made him tall in Two Bends, but short for even non-royals around the Capital from what he'd seen on the trip in the day before. He had black hair and a thin build, maybe in his late twenties and looked really familiar. Almost eerily so… Maybe he'd seen him the day before somewhere? That kind of thing where you noticed a person, but didn't really see them?

  “Sir? Master Alphonse suggested that these clothes be brought to you, for your outing later this afternoon?” The man walked into the room and seemed surprised that the bed was made.

  “Sir? Did someone come and make up your room already? I thought I had the job for the week…” He gestured with his eyes at the bed.

  Tor shrugged.

  “Sorry, no… I just didn't sleep last night. Made these instead. They keep you cool or warm depending on the temperature around you.” He held one up to show the man. “Here, take this one and try it out. Let me know if you can think of any improvements on it, alright? It was kind of a quick build. I don't want to leave gaps or anything.”

  The man took the plate and clicked his heels together, put it on and hit the sigil, then stood waiting. Tor smiled and told him he'd need to at least try it outside or maybe in the kitchen where it was warm. It must be oppressive in there given the heat, Tor knew, even in Two Bends, a lot farther north, the ovens heated the room a lot this time of year. The man agreed with him and asked if he'd like something to eat before or after he bathed and dressed.

  Tor got the hint, he'd better move to get ready or the man would have to fuss at him or… Whatever people with jobs like his did. He didn't think they'd yell at him, at least unless it was really important, but Tor didn't really know. He asked if food could be set up for after the bath adding please enough times that the man gave him a happy smile.

  The man left, letting him run the bath himself, which felt c
ool to the touch. On a whim he put on one of the new heat equalizing things and noticed that the water felt… wet. But that was all, not hot or cold. Not after the first second or so. He took it off, not wanting to get the string all damp and made himself get ready. He felt tired, but who wouldn't? He'd been up for over a day already.

  When he came back out the gentleman stood next to the large desk that had a full plate of food, most of it fruit, laid out for him. A soft half loaf was on a small separate plate along with some cool butter and a small paddle to spread it with, made of silver. It looked like real silver to him at least. Tor really wasn't an expert on such things. They had stainless steel eating utensils at school and Tor had been leery of them at first, since the metal made the food taste a little funny to him compared to the wooden spoons they used at home most often.

  Before Tor could thank him the man stood extra straight and looked ahead without making eye contact.

  “Sir. I have tested the device as instructed and found it excellent sir. I stood in the heat of the kitchen feeling no warmer than I do in this room. Outside in bright sun the temperature wavered for a brief instant, then held as if in a cool basement…” The man smiled and took a deep breath. “Most effective sir.”

  Tor waved at him tiredly. “Sorry, I'm a little tired, I'm just Tor, not a sir or anything, I didn't catch your name…”

  “Burks sir.” The man smiled and took the amulet off, trying to hand it back.

  “Oh, no… That's yours… Um… Keep testing it for me, will you?” It occurred to him that he didn't know the guy well enough for him to feel comfortable taking gifts yet maybe. It was one thing to give presents to his friend's family, but perfect strangers could be a little too much. Did you give gifts to servants? It seemed reasonable, since they were doing things for him, but he didn't know if it was acceptable or not. Having him test it got around that altogether, and really, if there was a problem with it, he could let him know. Feedback was important if he wanted to improve. Tor knew he had a lot to learn still. Probably more than he could imagine.

  The man bowed and stood by Tor's side, waiting while he ate, which was awkward. When he finished the man looked at him with a small, polite smile.

  “Um…” Tor didn't know what to do. The servant seemed to pick up on the cluelessness and pulled a small brush from a cabinet that had totally missed being noticed until that time, looking like part of the wall, then ran the brush over the velvet arms of the black and blue material that he wore. Pronouncing him as looking fine, the man left, seeming happy enough with how things had gone.

  That was good, Tor didn't have a clue how he was supposed to act around servants. For most of his life he hadn't even known that such people existed outside of stories told by the odd traveler, and then only once or twice. People had talked about such at school, but this man was the first one he'd ever really interacted with. Life in the Capital was sure different.

  The clothing that Rolph had worn as a child of eleven fit disturbingly well, if slightly looser on Tor than was intended for the original wearer. It looked good, he thought, even if meant for a kid. He walked out into the hall looking for his friend, not really knowing the time or how long it would take to get to Debri house for their meeting. Too bad the King didn't like flying inside the city limits. It would have made things way faster. At least today they wouldn't melt in the back of a carriage. Bored was better than bored and too hot.

  He found Rolph sitting next to a fascinating looking girl in a large room next to the dining room. It was an excellent room, even for this lavish place. White stone floor and cream colored furniture. The girl wore a scarlet red dress that had to have ten layers of material, covering her totally, except the arms, which were bare, showing pale skin that went with the long blond hair on her head. She wasn't pretty, not exactly at least, her cheeks too round for that. In fact the rest of her was awfully round as well.

  If she wasn't the fattest person he'd ever seen it was only because… no, she was by far the heaviest person he'd ever noticed. That probably meant that she was wealthy. Poor people couldn't afford to eat more than needed. Not that anyone wearing a dress like that would be poor. If they were they could just sell it and have enough to keep them going for a long time. She looked a few years older than either of them, but not too much. Early twenties tops. Tor walked into the room when a lull came in the conversation. The girl looked up and smiled charmingly at him when he entered. She had a nice looking smile. Friendly and sincere.

  Smiling hugely Rolph nodded to him.

  “Here he is now, dressed to impress even.” Standing he held a hand towards Tor and bowed. “Ursala, this is my good friend, Torrence Green Baker.” The move was reversed then and he bowed slightly towards the still seated woman on the cream colored soft bench in front of them.

  “Tor, this is Ursala Benevolence Matild Thorgood. My fiancee.”

  Chapter six

  Both of the people on the padded bench looked at him seriously and then started laughing. He didn't get the joke, if there was one. His face must have looked funny or something. That he could understand, after all he hadn't known anything about a fiancee and he'd lived with Rolph for nearly two and a half years now. If he didn't know that, what else didn't he know? Then again, was it his business? He'd thought that Rolph shared most everything with him, but…

  The big man stood and clapped both hands on his shoulders, reaching down a lot to do so.

  “It's an arranged thing, a deal our parents made when I was four and she was seven. But now…” He turned on Ursala and crossed his arms. “Since someone managed to get in a family way, things are going to be a lot more complicated.”

  The gears in his head spun slowly being tired and caught off guard like he was, but Tor finally put it together. Ursala was pregnant? That… Tor nodded firmly. “I see… So, when is the wedding?”

  It was one of those unfortunate things that happened sometimes. A man and a woman not being able to wait until they were married, a child coming a little too soon. At home they joked about how fast first pregnancies were, sometimes taking only six or seven months. Of course Rolph would have to quit school and probably go into the family business, whatever that was. Merchanting? Well, he'd do what he could to help them. Not that he had any money to speak of, but they wouldn't starve while they got themselves together as a family. Not even if he had to quit school and go to work at the bakery to keep them in bread. He told them that, hoping it would make them both feel better.

  Ursala started crying instead.

  “Oh, that's…” He didn't know what he thought she'd say, but she didn't come anywhere near it, figuring that she'd laugh at him or something. She was obviously wealthy, and probably didn't have to worry about starving.

  “That's so sweet. If only it was Rolph's child. Or yours Torrence. You'd at least step up and make sure I wasn't disgraced. But the father… He's one of the peerage, but he's already married. I shouldn't say who it is…”

  Rolph didn't say anything, he just looked down at the floor and then patted her hand. A rustling from behind Tor caused them to all look up. Connie came in, her dark hair looked more red in the bright light coming through the window. Behind her strode a very tall man that looked about forty or so, he was… really tall. Possibly the tallest person Tor had ever seen. Count Thomson stood about seven foot-two. This man must be nearly a foot taller than that. He looked thin, but with a powerful build that spoke of being used to hard work. Possibly the hard work of walking around at his size.

  “Father!” Rolph jumped up and hugged the man, who picked him up into the embrass and swung him side to side a little.

  “Boy! So, I hear that our match making decision wasn't as perfect as it could have been?” The man looked at Ursala down his long patrician nose. In a very deep, dry voice he continued.

  “Did you at least dally with a redhead dear? This might be hard to hide if not. Oh well, nothing for it. Let's go find the lout and force him to marry you. Name now, give.” He waved at h
er with his palm up as if asking for the name in writing. She sighed.

  “Count Ward. We've been… close for a while now. His wife wouldn't be thrilled with me showing up like this though I don't think.” The large girl blushed. So, not really fat, just pregnant?

  Tor had to go and sit down. He couldn't believe his ears. The girl not only got pregnant by a man not her betrothed, but he was married already too? How? Didn't she know he was married? Did the man lie to her about it? If so, they… well, they couldn't do anything. Not if the guy was royalty like that. It felt like a weight rested on his chest.

  “What can we do then? Rolph… you're going to have to marry her anyway. It isn't perfect, but you can't leave her disgraced and alone. If you won't…” Tor bit down on his lip and looked at the floor. “Then… I will. I know I couldn't offer much of a life for her and the child, but we simply can't leave her to suffer this alone. She messed up, but…” His voice died.

  The huge man who redefined what a giant was in his head nodded and looked at Tor seriously. “Well said boy. You aren't peerage though, are you? Not some hidden noble I haven't met yet or something? Or… Ah. I… see.” The look he gave Tor was deep, like he searched for Tor's face in memory and… found something. Of course he couldn't really. They'd never met. The man looked a little familiar, but that was probably his likeness to Rolph. All the really tall men he'd met had shared similar features, possibly as a side effect of being too big like that.

  “No sir, of course not.” Tor spoke evenly. How would that make a difference?

  The man nodded again and then stopped when his wife chuckled.

  “Dear, this is Torrence Baker. The man who saved Galasia? The Tor-shield and the flying devices? The one that made our living quarters not so ungodly hot… Speaking of which, maybe we should move to another room? It's a bit stuffy in here.” She pulled a fan and unfolded the silk and wood contraption. It was pink and had butterflies actually woven into the fabric.