The Dark Half of the Sun (The Young Ancients: Timon) Read online

  The man's entire family was probably in the Guild. No doubt the Sorvee family were all in on it in some form or another.

  It was something to consider as he traveled home.

  The Capital was shining orange in the setting sun, the King's river running like a band of shining tan in front of it. The thing wasn't overly clean, not compared to the one on top of the walls. It was clear that a few industrious people had figured out ways to shunt some of the water off for use both inside and out of the walls. On the river side there was a strip of green growing, a constant rain falling from wooden pieces stuck into the flow. The green was nice, the land in the area being decently brown and barren. Of course the water constantly hitting the wall was going to be a problem over time. It was already starting to melt away in places. As soon as someone in charge noticed it, they'd make the people take their rainstorm away.

  That would be sad. Really they needed a better way of dealing with it. A scaffold with an irrigation ramp or at least a long pipe to keep the wall clear. They had a lot of water to work with after all, it was a shame to let the one thing stop the other. Especially since it probably wouldn't work. People would just slap things back up when no one was looking, not wanting to lose their little luxury garden.

  He realized that he'd just been hovering, about eighty feet up, looking down at the scene. Shaking himself he settled. Then he realized that he hadn't gone to pick up Collette. He let his head hang for a few seconds, and then decided that if it wasn't an emergency, he'd get her in the morning. It wasn't late, and he was rested enough physically, Tim was just feeling like he didn't want to do it. Growling a little he put the craft away and got his chests out of it, knowing that honor and duty required him to go and see if he was needed.

  After all, the rule was, that if he was going to play at being an adult he had to carry a full load. Maybe two. He didn't have a wife or family, not yet. Not his own. Still he'd selected his burdens hadn't he? The world had kind of assisted in the direction he'd gone, but not totally. His decision to put off school was his now. Oh, true, he couldn't afford it, not yet, which was a difficulty. Count Thomson had offered him gold for it though, as had his parents. It was his choice to give his work away to orphans so they'd be able to learn to read and write, and no one had demanded that of him at all. Or even thought of it.

  Did he not want to go to school? It made sense to go. Tor had. His mother and father had. No one else was given the chance and he hadn't been either. He'd gone and gotten that for himself. So, yes, he really did want to attend, he just needed to get himself around for it. Tim decided to try and set a meeting with Countess Printer when he could. Or at least her head master.

  First however, no matter what, he had to do a few things. Contact Collette and make certain she didn't require him that moment. Then... if possible he wanted to shower. It didn't have to be a long one, just a little soap, a little warm water. It wasn't that much to ask for, was it?

  After that...

  Well, what he had to do was so audacious he almost wanted to pretend it wasn't his task at all. Sighing he set himself to the task and went to the communications device and hit the Ward sigil first. There was no wait at all, just a gentle laugh that answered sweetly.

  "This is Countess Ward. How are you doing this evening?"

  He tried to force a smile to his face, remembering her looking grumpy and snappish the other morning. He was a little tired now. There was a lesson in there in comportment he figured. At least in how not to act.

  "Hello Countess Ward, this it Timon Baker. Calling to see if Collette Coltress needs my services tonight? I can also be there for her in the morning. Or later, though we need to set the dates. Oh, also, while I have you, I was in Soam earlier in the day and not only are you cleared to go, Julie White, the leader there, is looking forward to having such interesting guests. We should probably take some things to trade. They don't use coin there, I don't think."

  There was a sound of girlish clapping then.

  "Marvelous. I have most of those going already arranged. Collette isn't here at the moment, out with a friend of hers, Martya? I don't know if you've met. They're plotting to control the ice manufacturing for the entire Kingdom no doubt. I won't complain, even if it does leave me at loose ends this evening. Oh... One moment, Marvin wants to speak to you."

  There was a rustle of shifting fabric and then a low voice that sounded like a whisper, forcing Tim to bend toward the device in front of him to hear all the words.

  "I've been called to the palace as soon as possible, would this evening be something that could be done? I don't know how long I'll be staying, perhaps through the council in a few weeks. I'll pay rate plus a bonus if you can have me there for dinner. I'd love to impress King Richard with my desire to please."

  It was just past seven right then. The meal would be at nine, like always.

  "Stand ready. No fair hiding inside so that we show up late."

  "Are you serious? I'll be ready! Thank you."

  Timon clicked the device, calling the palace instantly. It was a good plan, since it took nearly ten minutes. Finally there was a voice he didn't really recognize. Only in passing if at all.

  "This is the palace, how may I aid you this evening."

  "Timon Baker here. I just got a transport job from Count Ward. Would it be alright for him to come to dinner?" He was willing to be late and even lose the offered bonus if he had to, so the woman could find out if that was allowable or not. She just chuckled however.

  "Oh? The first to answer Richard's call then, if he can do it. I'll set that up. Are you coming as well Timon? It's just going to be a small meal. You can bring Maria Ward with you, if she wants to come along. We need all our friends here if possible." It clicked that she wasn't just an uppity maid half way through her speech. It was the Queen. He didn't acknowledge that however, in case there was a reason not to.

  "I'll ask after her, if I can. A bit of a schedule here, so not to be rude, but I need to fly." Literally he realized.

  "Do it. We'll see you for the meal."

  That meant running to the front and not getting clean first. He didn't reek yet, but he wasn't scented with lavenders either. At least he could have fresh clothing for the event. He'd need to find a comb however.

  The trip was quick and dark, but not too hard at the far end, since both of the Wards stood outside, surrounded by lights on their well groomed lawn. When he landed they both scurried to get in, moving a lot faster than he'd have expected. He didn't talk until they were headed back the right general direction at best speed.

  "Welcome. Normally I wouldn't be this rushed, you understand. We're all due for dinner in..." He looked at his watch, which he couldn't see at all, and had to make part of the shelf in front of him glow to see it. Not too much, since that would leave him blind in the darkness. "Forty-three minutes. Well... it doesn't look like I'll get my bonus. Still, we won't be too late I don't think, as long as we don't get lost in the night."

  Count Ward stayed silent, the tension from him almost palpable. His wife laughed a little and moved forward to see his watch.

  "This is so exciting! Aim true and let's see what can be managed? I doubt that even the Queen will hold us to scorn for being a few moments late. Not coming from Warden like we are. So..." Her tone told Timon that a change of subject was coming. It surprised him a bit, but her words asked after Petra, instead of the voyage to Soam.

  "My sister in law, is she well? Her ordeal, and to leave her alone in a strange land..." It sounded a lot more dramatic when she said it than the reality implied.

  Timon thought about what he could say and finally worked it out.

  "I can tell you that she's well physically and not broken of mind. She hides the pain of it well, but it's there. I can't imagine what she went through. I don't want to. Petra is very strong and seemed to be adapting well to where she was. I can't say more about that. I can tell you that she's safe and well protected where she is. More than that you'll have to pry fr
om the King."

  To their credit the couple didn't ask any more about her, either finding him rude beyond words or taking what he'd said as simple truth. It was, but the idea that anyone would actually trust him in anything important was kind of new to him. Oh, he was a fine hand in the bakery, and trusted with packages to go from place to place, certainly. It was the first time anyone had trusted him with another person's life however.

  The weight of it was rather greater than he expected, even knowing she was safe. How did the King manage it? He had the weight of the entire land on his shoulders. So did Brown, Red and White. Gray too. They were Ancient and well used to it, so maybe that would help in time? He felt pretty pressured himself at the moment, and Petra was safe now. Or was that just an illusion? Even if she really was, the rest of them weren't overly. Anyone that would torture a Conserina had to have meant to kill her and make the body vanish. To do less wasn't just to invite war, but to demand it. Not just from Ward either.

  Doing that would mean war with Tor. Since he was missing, that meant Timon would have to take his place. He wasn't a fighter, it was true, and just a child. But he could learn... and cheat. His brother was too good a man at times. Too honorable it sounded like to him. That or he hid his treachery well. That wasn't his way, being deceitful and conniving. It was Tim's.

  He kept his tongue still, not admitting that he'd come to a decision in that matter, since the Wards had been asked to hold their hand and he had to himself. He was nothing more than a delivery boy that could do a little building if he tried hard enough. How did he really turn that into anything that would stop traitors? No, he needed to watch his anger and find a way to be of service. Figure out who had the best chance of doing something useful and making sure it happened, if he could.

  Timon could see the palace on the horizon, or at least the light of the purple river and the golden lights of the grounds. It still took six minutes to settle into place, which was pushing the time on it a bit. The shield wasn't slapped up at least. It was... nine-thirty. Well, it had been worth a try.

  They hurried from the craft, only to stop when a half ring of Royal Guard pointed weapons at them. It was a little rude, unless they were being taken prisoner. In that case it was perfect. George moved forward however and smiled.

  "Truth amulet? We've had some issues. I'm sure you understand." He didn't sound like he was at all pleased however. Timon moved in and took the glowing amulet, the pink sigil bright in the dark.

  He hit it once, causing a nimbus of soft white with yellow stripes to appear around him.

  "I'm Timon Baker and not a traitor to the King, the Queen, the Heir, or anyone here that I know of. I intend no harm here and was, to the best of my knowledge, invited to dinner." He waited for George to nod and then handed the amulet to the Count, who repeated what he'd said, adding in his own name. That got him cleared him instantly it seemed.

  Maria did too, also being honest. Except that she changed the words about the King.

  "I'm... upset with him. I don't feel that he's treated us very well of late. We've proven ourselves over and over and still we're hit with this..."

  George took the amulet back gently and bowed low, those behind him still on alert. That was their job, or so it seemed to Tim.

  "We thank you for your willingness to aid us. The situation will be made clear soon, I believe. No insult was meant. If you must feel anger at this testing, please know that it was my decision, not any member of the Royal family." The man bowed low, not kneeling, but with a bent knee anyway.

  Countess Ward snorted, then sighed and shook her head.

  "A likely tale. Fine. I'll wait to find out more. But if this really was just some game of yours, I'll be back to tell you what I think about it." As threats went, it wasn't a very good one. The man nodded however, not smiling or looking overly pleased by the idea.

  The thing with her threat was that, if the situation called for it, she really could return. A promise of death wouldn't be easily delivered to one such as him. Even a guard could fight if they were being murdered after all. He might not survive her passing, but that would be what happened. Yelling at him, now that was a thing he couldn't beat. She could even spend the last of her days berating him as far as the law was concerned. No one would do that, thankfully. Still, if she wasn't happy with the answers she got, a thing George didn't control, there might well still be madness to pay.

  They were taken in then, to find that the meal was honestly small, having only six others at the table. The Royal family and Count Peterson. All people he'd actually met before. It was practically cozy. More than that, they'd held the meal for them, which got Count Ward to clap his giant hands several times, smiling.

  "Perfect. I'd promised Countier Baker a bonus if he could get me here in time for the meal. I didn't think to truly be here this night. Most amazing, don't you agree?"

  It was Princes Karina that gestured for Timon to move in next to her, on the King's side of the table, a place to the left of her.

  "Good work. You know the true reward for being good at your profession don't you?" She smiled and looked at the others, Prince Alphonse smirked and gave it away, stealing her line.

  "More of the same."

  She nodded and patted his left hand as he sat, the other Princess, Veronica, Varley she'd said to call her, on the other side.

  The meal they were served made the one from the Austran restaurant seem poor and tasteless, everything being served at the peak of perfection. They only made small talk and wouldn't say anything more meaningful until after. He'd probably be sent back home then, which was fine. As long as it wasn't all the way to Two Bends.

  They spoke of the weather, of a good type of wine that Alphonse had found, being grown from grapes along the western coast, and finally, as the fine cake they were eating for dessert was just being cleared away, what he'd been up to.

  The King waved to him, nodding a bit, which he took to mean he should speak freely.

  "You've been to several other lands in the last few days? How did you find them?"

  "With some difficulty in certain cases. Not just in locating them, though that's a little harder than it might sound. Austra is fine... and seeks friendship with us. To that end, a group of... they aren't exactly players or maskers, but the idea is similar... They want to come and make a show here, putting it down in a way that many can watch later. They do that there. It's about how noble Princess Karina and her stalwart friend Ali defeated Austra and freed them from the evil Serge family." He glanced around and noticed that people were watching him closely.

  "Kincaid Rue and some of her people want to come and see the land here. I don't get it, but it seems to be a real thing there. An important thing." He sipped at the water in the metal cup that had been placed before him to buy time. "Oh, she's the one that will be playing Princess Karina. I don't see it myself. She's a bit short and while pretty enough, it's in a very different way." For some reason no one asked about the particulars of what the players wanted from them.

  Instead Karina turned red and held a hand over her mouth.

  "He didn't! Denno actually wrote that down? Oh... my." She looked at the others her eyes wide and a bit embarrassed. "It's Alyssa Baker's fault. We were bored one day and Denno, he was working in the guest house as a servant at the time, hiding for some reason. Anyway, we started talking about stories, and Ali suggested that we'd make a good one. How we were trying to find Daria Serge, because she'd betrayed us and killed our friend. She painted us as slightly more heroic than we actually were. He said he was going to write it up, but I figured that as a joke. Oops."

  The Prince shook his head and smothered a laugh with a big hand, not speaking until he'd mastered his face.

  "I look forward to meeting this young lady then. Will she be staying with you Timon?"

  That wasn't something he knew, not having a house yet. He explained it calmly, hoping the obvious flaws wouldn't be pointed out. Like how he'd have to foot the bill for all of them since t
hey wouldn't have gold to pay for anything. It was Queen Constance that suggested that he arrange for a house. It had that kind of ever so obvious, but not exactly an order, tone to it that made him want to snap at her. He valued his life however, so just nodded. It was true after all.

  Just hard to do, so he'd been trying to put it off. He had to have one before he went home in a few days to take his sister to school, or his parents would probably force him to be a baker in their shop as punishment for thinking.

  To distract himself he told them about Dorgal Sorvee getting married to Lyn Red.

  "More, in a few weeks they're coming here, for a second ceremony. Apparently Tor told her that he'd pay for it, but she asked me to request that it be held here, and that King Richard officiate himself."

  Everyone went silent then for a while, so he took another sip of water and looked at the Queen, who was staring at him in abject horror.

  "I'd help with that, but I'm going to be busy. Creating a house."

  Chapter eight

  That turned out to be hard, considering he was just making some copies of someone else's work. It would have been easier if there was a template, but Tor insisted that those were for the lazy or mentally weak. Something like that. That meant sitting in a dark room for nearly two days without sleeping, forcing his mind to hold a pattern, an amorphous sense of a thing existing until it did. The time it took was in part because of his own lack of skill he knew. The Lairdgren group members could all do what he'd done in a matter of hours and come out with twenty to fifty copies of it at one time. In the end, after thirty-nine hours he had five working copies of the little cottages. Then he had to sleep. It was exhausting work, doing magic.

  After that he collected his things, and walked out of Tor's house, moving about three hundred feet away to the left, the river in front of him. Hitting the acid etched sigil on the silver piece in his hand, a square the size of a coin, caused the house to appear, looking... Alright. It was a nice place really, that seemed like gray stone, with a black slate roof on the top. The color was a little more gray than the ones that Tor made on the outside, though the interior was about the same. The front door was sturdy and the windows looked like glass, but were shield material. They couldn't break at all. There were interior shutters to keep out the light, and as soon as he set up a water pump he'd have a working tub and shower inside. A full kitchen too.