Knight Esquire ya-2 Page 24

  Rolph, not looking at anyone in particular, softly said a single word in a perfectly flat tone.

  “Don’t.”

  “Ah…” Connie replied. Then Richard jumped in to change the subject.

  “Well, if you’re satisfied that this whole situation is due solely to my own incompetence and not due to malice, which I swear on my name as King and by my breath and blood it was not, perhaps we can move to the next item of business? I’d truly love to not have to get down on my knees and grovel, or have my Kingdom torn apart.” The man didn’t smile about it, and looked directly at Tor.

  What was he supposed to say to that?

  “Um, I think you people are going a little over the top here. It was either a mistake, or someone just doesn’t like me here. Neither of those things needs groveling and no one would insist anyone be harmed over something like that, would they? Let’s call that done and be friends? If… anyone has a problem with me, please come and simply tell me though? Even if in private. I can… go away or change if it’s something I have control over…”

  For some reason everyone stood then, almost as one and bowed towards him, smiling. Connie had tears in her eyes. Before he could scramble to his feet everyone sat though.

  “Wonderful! Thank you Tor. There’s a lot to get through and not that much time. Which is real enough, even if I am changing the subject on a high note on purpose. People will only wait so long to be called after all. Then they start getting restless. We don’t want a reprise of the great wine glass rebellion after all. We lost over two hundred pieces of fine crystal that night. “Accidents”.”

  Tor thought he knew what the next bit would be about. Her. Trice.

  Instead the King asked for an update on the fires in Ross, and then what exactly he’d been doing up there. It wasn’t exactly heroic on his part, but they all seemed happy enough with what he’d managed to bring to the party. Except the part about the massive super explosive weapon.

  “I’ve seen a demonstration of one of your, erm, smaller devices Tor. Why on earth would you make something that can do even more damage than that?”

  “Um, well, I… don’t have an army? If I have to fight one, I’m going to need to be able to do a little more than just stand and be beaten like some kind of spineless moron with the personality of a doorstop. You know?”

  “I… see.” Richard didn’t pursue it any further at least, not directly he took a deep breath and nodded to himself for a few seconds, as if thinking about something. Finally he just nodded.

  “So,” The King continued after a few moments, the words drawing out at a measured pace. “Do you plan on making war on Duchy Morgan?” The tone was soft and serious.

  The laughter bubbled up out of him. Really, he couldn’t help it; it got worse as he watched their faces fall, concerned looks all around until Rolph suddenly stuck his tongue out at him and laughed along. Sure, the laughter had a strained, maniacal edge to it, but that didn’t matter. It was just the very idea of a great open battle field with him standing on one side and ten thousand men standing on the other. When he caught his breath he tried to explain.

  “What am I going to do? Kill thousands of people because my little feelings are hurt? That’s… not sane. I mean, even if Eric and Mercy were behind trying to poison me or… or if it was Trice herself,” The idea struck him harder than he’d thought it would, once he said the words out loud. It seemed too likely when he thought about it. But the idea hurt too much to bear.

  “Well, going “to war” like you all keep saying, would be punishing innocent people for what a guilty few had done. I was really mad at first, sure, but now that I’ve had some time to think about things… no. I won’t do that.”

  The Queen looked relieved, which Tor understood, it was her sister’s family after all. He swallowed before he said the next bit, but it had to be said, it had to be out in the open so that the King didn’t get caught off guard later. That, Tor knew, catching the man unawares, had to be a bad plan.

  “But… Connie, if they come after me, or if they try to hurt my family… or reputation or… or anything… I won’t hurt innocent people over it, but I won’t let that stand either. I don’t think that means “going to war” as you all keep saying, but… I won’t just take it either.”

  Her face fell, and went pale, but next to her on his own throne, Richard started to nod slowly.

  “That’s fair and wise Tor. No one expects you to simply roll over and die on command, or to take abuse heaped and thrown. I’ll take your word not to go to war over the issue as a pledge? We’ll endeavor to make this clear to them before anything negative results.”

  After that was said, Tor kind of expected the meeting to be over and for him to be sent on his way, or perhaps back to the party. What happened instead was that the King, without preamble called for some servants to come and rearrange the chairs, placing Rolph’s on the King’s right side, the heirs position, and Tor’s on the left of the Queen, which she whispered to him was the Queen’s Councilor’s position. She said it with a sad grin.

  Since he’d basically just threatened to do something vaguely menacing to her sister he wondered how the woman managed to even bear having him in the same room with her, but shrugged it off mentally.

  It was probably just that they were used to nobles getting in a snit and making threats like that all the time. Tor doubted that he could kill anyone even if they were trying to kill him. Even when he thought that Wensa was actively going to murder him, the closest he got was threatening her and that really only worked because as a Royal Guard she would have done it, which meant she had to figure Tor would do the same. Totally different mindsets

  New chairs were brought in, nearly matching the ones he and Rolph had, wood almost stained black, with deep forest green cushions on the seats instead of gray. The backs had ornate carvings that he envied the workmanship of, now that he had a chance to really see it in front of him. Whoever had made these was an artist, not just a furniture maker. The whole room was like that, when he glanced around. Filled with art, built into the very walls.

  He’d grown up in a room he shared with all his brothers that didn’t even have paint, much less art. Very different.

  It struck him then that he really didn’t belong in a place like this. It was like trying to make water and oil mix, and stay that way. You could work hard, shaking and stirring frantically, and get it to kind of looked mixed for a while, but eventually the truth of how different they were came out, the oil separated and floated to the top. Of course he wasn’t the rich oil, but the plain water underneath. That was probably what had to happen he realized. It was why he couldn’t be at the fine school any more, or marry Trice, or even be loved at all. He was too plain. Too bland.

  But like water, sometimes he could be useful, couldn’t he? Water, as much as anything, common as it was, made the world work.

  The first person to be brought in was Ambassador Mutta who smiled when she saw him and gave a small wave. He winked back, knowing from what the strange woman had said that she was nearly as out of place here as he was and could probably use a friend about now.

  Couldn’t they all?

  It was interesting, watching them all dance politically, and the delicate interplay of words, that Mutta stumbled over and that nearly put Rolph to sleep. The Queen, oddly enough, handled almost all of the discussion, which alternately seemed to amuse and displease her husband. Finally, a little abruptly for the room apparently, Mutta held up her hand and smiled.

  “What I really want is one of your above ground desalination systems. I know that my people can’t make one, the best we can do is a small trickle compared to what I saw on the tour last week and how it floats in the air like that… Well, what would it take to get you to part with it?”

  The King smiled and flatly refused.

  “It’s too valuable to us, even if it’s only needed every few years. Perhaps we could loan it to you part time?”

  After about ten minutes of this Tor
started shaking his head, which got the Queen’s attention.

  “Tor… Something?”

  “Yes, that won’t work. It’s like I said at dinner Ambassador, you need a lot more water than that, and a drainage system in place on the ground or, well I suppose an overflow system could be built to take things back to the ocean in the air, but that kind of defeats the purpose. You really want irrigation that will run constantly. The distances are too great anyway. The falcon wouldn’t even reach half way for what you need, not from what you said and if you’re going to do it right you need a much higher volume of clean water.”

  The woman’s face fell.

  “I see. So there’s no hope of this working for us?”

  “Not that way. I’ll have to build all new field devices to get the work done; it will take a couple months. Well, that’s not really honest, I could do it faster, but I’ve got a wall to build first, and a few other small things to take care of and I don’t want to neglect my other promises. Also, you know, I don’t really have a home right now, being an itinerant wonderer wasn’t really a joke, so I need to get that together. But I think I can get the work done in two or three months baring emergencies. I…”

  Across from the Queen the small, very brown, woman goggled at him, her mouth coming open a little. Then finally she smiled and nodded.

  “Ah! A joke I see? You are the jester then? I haven’t been clear on that. I really expected more singing. That and bells. The description in the packet spoke of bright colors and little shoe bells. Though there was some confusion as to if that is a Tellerand thing or not.”

  Laughing he shook his he’d. “Oh god no. You really don’t want me to sing. No, it’s not a joke, the thing is, I don’t know if I’m allowed to do this for you. Can I deal with a foreign power on my own? That seems a little like overreaching on my part. So you have to go through the King on that. If they,” he gestured at the royals as a group. “Say it’s all right, then I think I can get the rest done. Well, the equipment side at least. Your people will have to do the actual work and get the seeds in the ground, then tend and monitor the whole thing. I’ll really just do the easy part.”

  For some reason Mutta kept acting like the whole thing was a joke, even after both the monarchs assured her that not only could he do the work he promised, but was allowed too. After a few minutes the Queen looked at the ambassador and explained again in a fairly forceful voice. A little snappish really, considering she was dealing with the Ambassador of another land.

  “Mutta. I know that Afrak is run and controlled by women, but here in Noram we don’t have such artificial restrictions. Tor isn’t the court jester, as funny as he’s been tonight. He’s… a builder, a wizard. Young, but one of the greatest in our land. He makes field devices, magic we call it. The flying river you so covet? He built it. By himself, alone. In less than two weeks. While lying in a bed with a broken ankle he got saving two poor children from a collapsed well. He nearly died in that event, but he didn’t allow that to prevent him from saving a portion of this land from drought. I assure you, if he says that he can do this for you, man or not, you’d best believe it will be done.”

  The Ambassador stood suddenly and bowed to the Queen. Then as an afterthought to the King. At least now that bit of interplay made sense to Tor. In her world a man just couldn’t be in charge, so she had to make herself remember to take the King seriously. Or at least pretend to. It hadn’t come in to play much with Tor, because he just wasn’t in charge of anything. Even him running off to help with the baking had probably seemed normal to her. It was the kind of non-important thing that people that weren’t leaders did, right?

  As if seeing to the food wasn’t important.

  Tor had gotten along perfectly well without having a King or Queen handy most of his life and had never needed a doctor at all, but he ate several times every day. People really needed to get their priorities straight. Farmers, cooks and craftsmen were at least as important as a King. Not that he’d tell the royals that. That would be stupid.

  They had armies, so everyone had to pretend they were important.

  After that though, the strange woman took the idea seriously, even if she did keep giving Tor funny looks. Incredulous glances that spoke of her not really believing it all. Oh, well. Maybe she’d change her mind when she saw the rivers flowing into the desert? Possibly not. Cultural expectations could be hard to change, and Tor would still be a man, no matter what he did.

  Mutta didn’t have a specific price in mind, but certainly seemed willing to offer recompense for the work to be done. The King informed her that the kingdom itself would allow it without cost as a sign of good faith and peace, but that she still had to contract the work with Tor himself. The serious tone he used made Tor laugh out loud, which made everyone in the room stare at him for a second as he clapped a hand over his mouth.

  “Oh, sorry. It’s just… Been a hard month. Tell you what Ambassador, good faith dealing here all around. I’ll deliver all the things I said I would, make sure it’s up and working and then you can pay me whatever you and your people think it’s worth, alright? You don’t like the work, you don’t have to pay anything. You can’t get a better deal than that, can you? You can all decide to pay with some chickens and a slap on the back if that suits you.”

  At that the woman stood, smiled hugely, and bowed to the Queen again, nearly prostrating herself on the floor. Rolph had to hide a laugh himself when he saw the look on the King’s face. When the woman went back to the party, less than half an hour had passed. The King smiled then clearly relieved.

  “Well, she’s not good for the ego, not mine at least, but I have to hand it to her, she didn’t stretch things out overly. I half expected us to be in negotiations for months on this one. Can you… really do the work though Tor?” For all that he’d seemed confident a few moments before, now the King looked worried.

  It occurred to Tor that these people had to worry about a lot of things, didn’t they? Sure, everyone did, but the King seemed to feel responsible for everything. Kind of the job though, wasn’t it?

  “Oh, well, yes. Really telling her that it would take months was kind of a lie. I explained that though… I could have it all to her in a few weeks, I just kind of wanted to have a little time to work on some other things like I said. It’s selfish of me, but there you have it. Especially since I doubt I’ll get paid for it anyway. Still, it really is worth doing. Just to help turn a dessert into something green like that. How could I not help?”

  Before he could finished the thought the next group of people was ushered in. His chair wasn’t moved at all, and no one asked him to leave, so he just sat as the people bowed to the King and Queen. For the first time he could remember they all bowed to Rolph to, if not as deeply and even gave him small half bows, looking a little uncertain of his place. Apparently they were important people, because no one bothered to introduce anyone to him, or him to them. That last part made sense, because he intended to just sit and listen anyway. Perhaps they were supposed to be known on sight?

  It grabbed his attention when he realized that the people on the right hand side of the row of chairs appeared to badly desire to go to war with the people on the left.

  “We demand satisfaction!” The older man on the far right fumed, his face going red.

  Then white.

  Chapter nine

  Tor, wisely, decided to keep his mouth shut. The situation was pretty serious and the angry man that wanted to be satisfied was already half way to combat rage. Stupid ultimately, but that didn’t mean that people wouldn’t end up dying over it. Possibly in that room, within the hour, if it was played wrong. Tor was glad he had his shield on, but as he felt around mentally, he noticed that no one else did. Connie and Rich weren’t wearing theirs at all.

  Even if they secretly didn’t like him, they should have worn the shields. Maybe they weren’t nice enough looking? He could, probably, work something into stone or crystal that would work better for them. Rich peop
le did that sometimes. It was harder to do, but fields on stone just lasted longer, sometimes ten times or more. He’d look into it. They were supposed to be friends after all, so if he saw a way to help them, he had to. It was a rule.

  The dispute was between a Baron and a Duchess, who were supposed to have been married at one point, but the situation had fallen through when the Duchess decided that she loved someone else instead. Or possibly just thought she had a better business deal set up. Not a good thing, but it sounded like it was handled well enough at the time, go betweens used, and egos soothed enough that no one had been overly angry.

  No one had spoken loudly in negative terms about the other in public for instance. No screaming drunkenly in restaurants or anything.

  Over the five years since though, things had gotten strained between them, the Baron refusing right of transit across his lands for instance, which was inconvenient for the Duchess and the man she’d finally married, who turned out to be the head of the Lintel Merchant house, since they’d recently set up a new manufacturing concern to replace their lost military shield contracts. Water pumps and temperature equalizers. They needed the route for rapid shipping.

  Tor blinked.

  Well.

  Apparently Sara had actually been busy at least. Maybe he’d been hasty in lumping her and Debri in with how Trice felt about him? The girl wasn’t the one that had said those things, even if Trice was her best friend.

  Tor took a deep breath, which made the Baron snap at him. The man was so enraged that he clearly wanted an excuse to lash out.

  “What you think that I shouldn’t have the right to manage my own lands?” The tone was angry and sullen and the words clearly directed directly at Tor, which made the entire royal family stiffen in response. Tor shook his head.