Lord of the Sky (The Young Ancients: Timon) Page 7

  The rest of the people were mysteries to him, so he turned to Ali, hoping she'd know their names. Before she could speak, Sherri did, smiling at the tall boy and girl that were hanging back.

  "These others are Mitchell Thom and Demis Sandis. They're staying with the rest of us at the school for the holiday and came to help. Mitch is over in the fighters section, but promised to do any lifting and totting that we need done. Demis is in homemaking, with me."

  They started to unload the goods from the back of the craft, which had a lot of food in the mix, as well as some evergreen boughs for decorations. They were clearly fresh cut, the scent of pine coming off of them so strong that for a half moment he felt like he was at home, in Two Bends.

  There was enough food for about two hundred people, but no one had known what the situation was really going to be. It wasn't a bad idea, and actually reminded him of something, once he thought of it.

  "Right, Judy, as soon as we get this into my cottage, will you help me with something? I need to bother your Countess and it will look better if I have someone she actually knows on hand." It was probably jumping over the line a bit, going to the woman about some fish, but who else was going to have communications devices there yet?

  "On it. Just the one kitchen? I don't know much about cooking, but don't we need more than that?"

  It was a real point, so he went to his trunks and found the small stash of magical houses that he'd made. He had seven left now. Getting two of them out he handed them to Demis, as if he knew her. It wasn't his reasoning, it was just that, out of all of them, she was the one carrying the least in each trip so far.

  "Can you set these up? They have water pumps built in, so if you..." He didn't finish explaining, since Sherri ran over to help her. It would mean taking longer to get all the work done, but it wouldn't take that long. After all, it was just what was in the one craft.

  Before anything else was done, he got a batch of winter cakes going, the thick batter made even denser by all the dried and candied fruit he put into the mix, along with chopped tree nuts. A simple baking sheet would be enough for them, since they were a dry dough, meaning they wouldn't stick very easily. He had to find that in the Countess's kitchen, but the seedy and disreputable man from earlier helped him find the right person.

  "You'll want to go to Mr. Combs, I believe. Excellent man, he and some of the others have been doing what they could to help those in need with the Countess's single healing amulet. He is, if I'm correct in my thinking, the butler here." The very man was pointed out and he sent a girl scurrying for the needed pots and pans directly, once he figured out what was desired. Then he set to taking the decorations in, trying not to seem hurried as he moved.

  "Thanks. Sorry, I missed your name? I'm Timon Baker." He didn't add the title, since the man didn't seem to be the kind to care about things like that overmuch.

  "Brent. Brent Cavetti. I'm a Servant of the Heavens. You probably haven't heard of us, but my meeting place is just down the street, so I came to help when I saw the people headed this way earlier."

  That made some sense. Most places had at least one, and sometimes several, religious leaders. The Servants of Heaven were a smaller sect, but they actually backed up their beliefs with hard work, and tried to help those in need, when possible. Timon had seen a few of their meeting halls while he was doing deliveries for the family business.

  "Nice to meet you. Sorry to get your help and run, but I have some cakes to put together."

  The man didn't say anything, just nodding a bit and stepping back, so that he could get to his work, even if making cakes had to sound cold, given the rest of the day. He didn't look disapproving. Just pensive.

  Then Tim scrambled fast, keeping the trays moving in and out of his oven two at a time. It was all he had room for in the smooth black magical construct. Judy finally found him, just as the last batch was going in, the whole place smelling of rich spices. Cinnamon and clove mainly, with just a hint of ginger underneath. No one was in with him, they did keep running in to get supplies. The undercook for the Countess, the same girl that had given them the pots and pans earlier, was doing her own work inside, but had to borrow some things to round out the pantry.

  It had been hard to get deliveries for a while after all.

  She was leaving just as his tall friend came in. Judith smiled at the much shorter woman, who couldn't have been fifteen, making her actually fit in with the rest of them well. The overcook had died it seemed, so ready or not, the girl was in charge of that section now. She seemed a bit shy and had the look of a commoner, being shorter than Timon and with hair nearly as dark. There was a wide eyed nod back, but the girl didn't speak at all, being busy.

  "You still want me here to hold your hand while you talk to my cousin?" The words were a little harsher than actually needed, but the girl didn't take them back or anything. She just looked at him, as if he were acting like a baby.

  Was he? It made sense to him, to have someone make the introduction, but was it really needed?

  "I suppose not. I was just thinking that she'd be a little more likely to take your call than mine, but I guess it might be that she won't talk to either of us?"

  "Don't be dense. You're a Countier, course she'll talk to you. Here..." The tall girl pulled her own, new style, communications device out and tapped the name in, to bring it up on her display. It took a few seconds, but a decently young sounding female voice spoke before she could hand the device over.

  "Happy Noram's Vigil! This is Holly, how may I help you?" She sounded happy and festive. Also possibly a little drunk.

  That could come in handy.

  The device was thrust into his face, since Judy clearly wasn't planning on coddling him as far as introductions went at all.

  "Hello! Happy Vigil! This is Timon Baker, I hate to bother you, but the Kingdom managed to open up County Montblanc yesterday. Things are peaceful here, but we could use some extra food and sundries I suspect. No one has really asked for anything yet. I can get gold for it, from the special fund, the King has already cleared that, but I kind of need an amount? I still have to clear it with Prince Alphonse and Gerent Lairdgren." He figured that would cover most of what the woman would need to know, but instead of answering with the needed amount of coin, or telling him to call in a few days, the woman on the other end of the device... giggled.

  "Right oh! Tim Baker? Aren't you supposed to be in classes here in town? We held a place for you, but you never showed up."

  It hardly seemed to be that important now, did it? They had a war going on, a full blown rebellion, not just a polite squabble or two, which happened every few years. It seemed fair enough to him that he'd be late. That had nothing to do with the original problem, did it?

  "Sorry about that. I had a bit of a problem with funds. You pulled my scholarship, if you remember? Two weeks before the term was to start. I have the coin for it now, but I had to earn that before I could afford to go." There was no bitterness in his voice, but a soft gasp came from the other side of the device anyway.

  "Crap. I knew I shouldn't have said anything. I wasn't trying to put you on the spot, word had just reached me that someone was paying for you. From Collette Coltress. I guess I need to have words with her."

  Timon had suspected that's where things had come from originally. It really was based on something that Tor had said, and wasn't her fault overly.

  "No need. I already did. Thanks. I don't suppose I can get in next year? I can pay in advance now. I'll understand if you think that I'm unreliable. I should have come and explained it all to you myself." Or at least sent a letter. Too late for that now.

  "I think we can arrange that. You should come visit the school and see if it's to your standards. Maybe bring Tor with you? He hasn't been out to see it yet and it was his idea. His funds are paying for it even. He doesn't want that known, I don't think, so be careful in what you mention that way."

  "Sure. I'll ask. Not to be a pain, but can I get a good deal on
some fish?" Somehow he managed to make it sound funny enough that the woman laughed.

  "Right, we can get you fourteen tons, dried. That will cost about ten gold per ton. We might also spare some winter saved vegetables and a few fresh greens, and some other things. Call it... A thousand gold in all? It won't go over that at least. That doesn't cover shipment. You'll need to get with someone else for that. Duke Morgan does a good job there and has been known to give discounts for Kingdom work." She sounded more serious now. Less drunk too.

  "Alright. I'll set that all up. Can it be ready for delivery inside the week? I'll try to bring the funds for it as soon as I can. I don't know how long I'll have to beg to get it."

  "I think so. I'll put the word out with the store house to get it ready." There was a long pause then, and a clink that made it sound like something was being poured into a glass. In the background there were people singing.

  It was Noram's Eve Vigil, and should have been dark there already, if only just.

  "I need to go, the festivities are starting. I look forward to meeting you in person."

  "And I you. Thanks."

  The line dropped out then, as Judith smiled knowingly.

  "Told ya. You didn't need me at all. Didn't even have to drop my name. Everyone knows that you're important already. More than me at least." There was a slight hint of bitterness to the words, but she didn't explain. Really it wasn't needed. Her face told the whole story.

  She was trapped between two different worlds. A girl that was from the country, thrust into the world of power and position, but knowing the whole time that it was, at best, only temporary. That probably explained her willingness to do things like work as a pilot while in school. She needed to set herself up for an entire life after all, and being a fighter, while a job, wasn't a very good one. Most of the nobles that took that course of study were really just big people that weren't all that academically inclined, when you got down to it. Judy wasn't ever going to be leading the Printer Armies into war for instance, or even leading the charge for them, most likely.

  She was just stuck that way.

  Timon grunted, a low sound that came with a fake grin.

  "Oh, I'm important now? Good to know. Why? Because my brother is the best builder ever? That one's a mixed bag, I'll tell you now. For every good thing that's come of being around him, an equally bad one always seems to happen. I guess it balances, but it isn't something that I'm particularly fond of."

  That got her to cross her arms and glare down at him as he put his communications device away. Or started too. He realized that it was hers and laughed, handing it back before she could say anything. It made it look almost like he'd been playing with her, pretending to take her device, but she didn't let that distract her at all.

  "Y'all look here. We've been at war for near on four months and had two real battles so far. I fought in one of them, at the Capital, but most the Lairdgren kids were there, so it ain't that special. In that time one of the main traitors was kilt, and one captured. Then you come here, by your lonesome, and get Countess Montblanc to surrender to you just by knocking on her door? That ain't normal, is it?" Her accent was thickening a lot. It wasn't too much for him to hear through, but it did show she was a little worked up for some reason.

  He smiled at her and shook his head.

  "You helped with Count Rodriguez. That was important. Most of the rest of that was just me trying to survive, or, I don't know, maybe die well? How about this; I'll stop whining, if you do? What's with the moodiness today anyway? Did something happen that I don't know about? Some relationship thing or something like that? If some boy turned you down, he's a moron."

  "No. Nothing like that. I just had some words with Holly earlier. I want to go back home and join the military, but she won't hear of it, because I'm her heir. I sort of told her that I was going to run off and join the King's Army, but she said that she'd shut that down if I did. Then she sent me along here, trying to pretend that this is something important or daring. Like it ain't just some party." There was a sullen look to follow the words, which clearly told anyone watching that she expected Tim to say that Holly was right about at least the last point.

  The fact was, that he didn't care enough to bother. Not on that topic.

  "Well, I'd appreciate it if you didn't do that yet. I have some other plans for you."

  "Really? What, me on my knees while you..." At least she stopped before the last bit came out.

  "Heh. No. Oddly enough. That still wouldn't line up. Think about it. Tor is going to have a new batch of Fast Craft ready soon, and if all goes well, so will I. My Aunt Orange is going to be leading the new space fleet, but she'll need pilots and you can already do at least part of what's needed. As soon as possible I was thinking that we could set up a training school for that. Plus I don't want to lose you as a pilot yet. You do decent work after all. It's not like I can let Mark take over when I go off to school next year, and Morgan, while a great person, is a commoner. Most of our clients are going to be nobles for a long time. That leaves either you or Tiera and I'd rather not have every other pick-up end in a duel."

  The girl scowled at him for a bit, but then shook her large head, her thin body tense.

  "I guess. Holly might forbid that too. It's like she wants me to end up back in a cabin on the river, you know?"

  Timon didn't know, of course. He'd never met the woman, but it really didn't seem likely.

  "More to the point, my bet is that she's afraid that she'll die without issue, leaving the County to you. I don't know what she's been up to that makes her think that, but it fits what she told you."

  He left out the part about anyone wanting to join the military at sixteen being a moron. She wasn't one really, even if she wasn't as smart as he was. Few were.

  "Well, I guess I could try your plan, if I can. Think that this Orange Ancient will have me?" She did not sound sure of that herself at all.

  "I have no clue. She seems like your kind of person, so why not? Your mind is young and malleable still, and you have hobbies in common, such as thrashing people that annoy you. It should be a good starting place at least."

  Then he started to load the slightly warm winter cakes onto a tray, for transportation into the house. It was creeping up on time for others to start showing up after all. He'd made five dozen of the things. Hopefully that would be enough. They were having a full dinner to go with it, but it was kind of a random thing, as to what anyone would bring. In Two Bends when they did that kind of thing they always had to make a list of who was bringing what, since otherwise they always ended up with ten batches of vinegar potatoes. Everyone loved it, but there were limits to that.

  No one had even tried that for this little event, whatever it really was.

  Noram's Vigil, of course, but a very slapped together party.

  The set up didn't really need him overly, since the decorations were already up and the food was coming out nicely enough it seemed. The girls from the school were making things without burning anything at all. That didn't mean things wouldn't be undercooked, of course, but it smelled pretty good. It would be awkward and make him look bad if he just stood around, so Tim decided to help get the food inside, to the ball room. It looked pretty nice, in a slightly country fashion. The pine bows were on the walls, tied with ribbon, as they should be, but there were also hand painted decorations and plush metal colored garlands that were made of silk.

  It made sense that a Countess would have things like that in storage, but someone had to have been moving pretty fast to get that done. It appeared to be a combination effort, with Mr. Combs and Mitchell actually working up a sweat as they got it all ready. The butler looked red and a bit uncomfortable, dressed in his fine work outfit already. It had damp spots on it already.

  That didn't stop him at all.

  He was an older fellow, nearly thirty by the look of him, his hair thinning on the top but still a nice dark color that looked black at the moment, given the light and the level
of effort. It was clear that he was a good worker, as well as talented. The place had gone from an empty room made of polished wood to something that anyone would be proud to call their own.

  The table with the food was set up, as Ali had promised, school fashion. That wasn't the way they ate in the dining room, from what he'd seen, so it probably referenced something that the kids themselves did at parties. That or the classes in the homemaking section were a lot different than he thought they'd be.

  At a bit before seven almost everyone suddenly vanished, heading into the large house itself, a thing that was nearly a true Palace, but not exactly big enough for that designation, or into one of his little cottages. Mainly to change and clean up, Tim figured. It was a good point. He covertly sniffed under his arm as he walked to do the same thing. He wasn't exactly ripe, but there was a mustiness that wouldn't work well at a party. That got him to move into the shower for about ten minutes, scrubbing with some nice lime scented soap, then standing under the cool forced air drying system for about five minutes. It left him a little damp, but clean.

  Then it was just a few moments of focus to change his outfit into a nice, very dark red, velvet outfit. He gave it a light blue trim and set it to seem real, making it a little uneven at the cuffs and causing what looked like a few errant threads to poke out in just a few places. Then he added a couple of spots of fake lint, and combed his hair back. It was pretty short, since that was the fashion now, and easier to take care of. It meant finding a barber every month or two, but that took less time than pony tails and constant brushing. He wasn't a horse after all.

  At first no one showed up, which had Heather looking a bit firm around the mouth. It bothered her, Tim could tell, but she clearly didn't think that many people would show up. Why would they? It was both a last minute party, on one of the biggest days for that sort of thing during the year, and at the same time was being held in a plague zone. Even if people were willing to forgive her little spot of treason, that made it unlikely that many would be coming to celebrate with them.