The Dark Half of the Sun (The Young Ancients: Timon) (22 page)

BOOK: The Dark Half of the Sun (The Young Ancients: Timon)
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"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 from 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 they 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.

Right alongside of his place he set up a second one. Getting water was a problem, since he didn't have a copy of a pump at all. The place might not count without it as a real home. Not with his parents at least.

"Fine, build one. You're a builder too... don't let that kind of thing stop you." It was a scary idea, since he couldn't afford the time off to do it. Not with only a day before he needed to be in Two Bends to get Tiera for school.

After putting his few belongings in the main house, he sat on the front walk and waited, since the fee collectors should be out, according to what Collette had told him. It was the lady herself that found him first, shaking her head a bit as she walked toward him, wearing a pink tunic and pants, along with what looked like a big Warden style straw hat.

"You made me fly all the way back here the hard way, losing yourself in a work trance like that." She grinned anyway, not sounding too put out and looked at his house, which was practically a hut compared to the giant palace next door.

Looking at it Timon saw the statement it made. His brother was big and important, flashy and incredible and here he was riding his work and effort. Even with that edge he was barely able to be seen at all. A tiny shadow dancing humbly in the shade created by a mountain.

The woman looked impressed anyway.

"Not bad work. I can't make a copy at all. I've tried. Alyssa can, but only one at a time. She's planning on studying that at Lairdgren this year. Have you thought about doing that? I mean, they'd let you in there and with your grandfather the Count owning it, they'd have to either waive the fee or at least let you in on credit." She glanced at the place again and shook her head. "No one has come in to any school being able to do this. Even if you don't want to build, maybe learn history, or languages to help your business, it's an idea. It's the noble way, getting our families to pay for everything."

He shook his head and let out a huff of air.

"I... don't want to be Tor the lesser. I can see it happening already. I've been to strange and distant lands and had people be impressed that I'm his
brother
. I'm proud of him and all he's done, but I'm
not
him. I need to make my own way, somehow. It isn't about this." Waving at the house and then the palace next to it, he froze. "Only it is, isn't it? If it were just the others, Teral and Todd, even Tamerlane for all she's a Countess, no one would really care. I can match that, maybe. Become a businessman myself and people won't care that my oldest brother has his own bakery, or that the others married well. I can
do
that. What I can't do is be a bright and shining star that can match the freaking second sun that Tor already is. No matter what I do, I don't think it will ever be enough to be seen as more than 'Tor's brother'. Worse, that's ungrateful and petty of me. I really
am
proud of him. I just don't want to live in the shade on the dark half of the sun forever. Never really good enough, no matter what I do."

The woman chuckled a little and sat down on the ground next to him, not speaking for a while, finally she patted his shoulder gently and smiled sweetly. It was a little patronizing.

"Maybe. If it were anyone else I'd tell you to just do a bit better, or to even just not worry about it. You have to be yourself after all. Tor is..." She started to say special, Timon was certain, but then made a face. "
Difficult
. Vexing, and sometimes a pain in the rear. He can't understand the people around him and simple social things baffle him as often as not. He's loved and respected, thousands would die for him at need, but I don't know that he feels it at all. Do you know how many times I've heard him talk about running off and being a baker somewhere? Or a fisherman. Anything but the life he has. Maybe that's where you can be different. Better even. Be
happy
Timon. Oh, be good and helpful and wonderful, but also enjoy life, when you can." There was a shrug then, a move that spoke of close association with the Ancients. Probably just Tor. He did that all the time. Green too, as well as Denno.

Making a face he hoped wasn't too unpleasant he let out a big gust of air and stood. There was a wagon headed toward them after all, and it would be best to meet it on his feet.

"That's as good as anything, I guess. Well, I'm not the first to deal with a successful older sibling and won't be the last. Poor Taman. She's turning six this year and has to deal with all of us going first."

They waited for the fee collector, who looked at the set up and seemed confused at first. Finally the man, who had a tidy silver beard and a bald head, got down from the wagon and walked over to Collette. She just smiled and gestured at Tim, not saying anything.

"Two lots please. For a year. One is a residence the other a guest house. I do get a discount for paying that far in advance, don't I?" He smiled at the man, doubting it was something you could haggle over at all.

The older man, his face seemed like leather, actually nodded.

"For two lots, which gives you a lot of space on either side... I'll walk it with you, it's approximate, so anyone coming in might be nearer the line than you like, or even over it. No fighting about it. Most won't bother someone that has places like this... Proper houses, aren't they? If you can pay the year in advance it will be ten gold even, instead of ten and four. That will also save you from any increases in rate for that time. Course, if the King lowers the fee, you lose out. That won't happen, so it's worth the gain and protection." He spoke evenly, as if to an adult, even though he seemed to be a little less than sure Timon had the coin.

He did, and more than that, thanks to Count Ward and his bonus. That extra was four gold, but he paid full rate for himself and his wife, which was thirty-eight in all. For a few hours work. Not enough for school, but he was really close. Less so when he counted the coin to the man and handed him a small cloth carrying bag for it. That was the polite noble way. You provided a way to move the payment. The nicer the material, the more important you were saying the whole thing was to you personally. A canvas sack was what you paid a workman with. A craftsman or musician you liked would have velvet and so on. To give a payment wrapped in silk was the highest compliment possible.

This little sack was velvet. He didn't want to insult the man, or worse, the King, so he upgraded it. He was given a written receipt for the year and the area was a good bit larger than he'd figured, when they walked it. Big enough for him to put in a garden. Once he had water.

How he was supposed to get that done by the next day Timon didn't know. Finally, as the fee collector drove away, his two horses moving slowly, one a nice looking gray and the other a bay that looked pretty old, he finally just asked Collette. Surprisingly she just nodded at him when he explained why he wanted a water pump.

"I just happen to have one. I can rent it too you for a few weeks, until you can get time to make a copy for yourself. That way you can honestly tell everyone that you have a real place, that you've paid for yourself. I don't know if that will meet your parents rules, but it can't hurt." He blinked and then hugged the woman.

"Thank you! A silver a month? I can go higher than that, if you need." It wasn't great bargaining, but even the rent on magic was high, he knew.

"Deal. I'll go and get that now. You should have a sign made too. Otherwise people will keep coming to my door in the middle of the night to see if they can hire you. There have been six already. That and see if the King will let you have one of the remaining units for the communications devices. Tor said there were some left at least."

It took a few hours to get the water up and running, because there was an emergency at the ice manufactory. It wasn't a big issue, just a Baron that wanted a delivery as fast as possible. The problem there was that the man was a pain to deal with and kept screaming at everyone. He'd ridden a horse to get the ice, but clearly needed more than he could possibly carry. It would have been just plain stupid of him, except that normally there really were wagons available for the purpose. They were just all out at the moment though.

"I need this
now
! I have guests coming in a few hours and they are
very
influential people. We, my lady wife and I, we promised their daughter frozen cream and berries. A very important treaty could be riding on this! I demand you help me!
Now
!" The only saving grace was that the man sounded so exasperated the speech avoided being abusive. Entitled and annoying, but not actually the man trying to strong arm them. It wouldn't have worked anyway. There just wasn't a wagon available. It wasn't anyone ignoring his plight really, they just didn't have a way to help.

Timon shrugged.

"I'll help you with the delivery, just this once. You have to pay for it. A silver for the trip. I need very exact directions to your home too. I'll have it there before you can make it back." It wasn't allowed to fly inside the city walls, but
landing
was given a bit of leeway. At least at the palace. If he could settle straight down in the man's yard or the street in front of him, going slowly enough, perhaps it would be excusable?

The ice workers shook their heads, until he had the Fast Carriage out. When it appeared the man stepped back at least, and bowed.

"Are you Countier Baker then?" The man was very pleased by the idea, which made Tim feel pretty good. That he'd been recognized was amazing.

Until he started speaking again.

"To think! Ice delivered by the Wizard Tor himself!"

Sighing Timon stared at the man hard, his brown eyes blank. Eventually the Baron, a man named Fell, stopped talking.

"My brother. I'm Timon Baker. I own the fast transport service. Which is how we're taking your ice. For the cheap price of only
two
silvers." Crossing his arms he waited for the man to protest or to start yelling again. Instead he bowed decently low and smiled, a lot more charmingly than before.

"Ah! Even better. Wizards scare me a little. Yes, two silvers... Would you be available for one of those tours I've been hearing about soon? If I could arrange one of those... Well, may I call on you for a discussion of such a thing? In a few days perhaps? I really do need that ice. If I can't deliver on my claims then my word will be in doubt. You understand how that goes?"

Smiling Timon nodded. He really could.

"Fine. Just the one silver then. I'm going to be in and out a lot... Would the morning after next suit you? I have a delivery to make to Austra. Some friends of mine are running a restaurant and need supplies. It will have to be early." At least it would if he wanted to get there and back in one day.

"That would be very good. Most excellent." Then Baron Fell described his dwelling in great detail. It was along the west wall, near the good section, but not, unfortunately, directly in it. That showed he was a man of wealth, and even though he was tall and thin, with a face that looked like he might be twitchy, he spoke well. Smoothly and with a calm air. It was smarmy though. Too sly and slick to be real, even as he gave information that would get Timon to do what he was requesting.

Dropping the load of frozen water off took a lot more work than most deliveries did. Instead of helping him unload, the kitchen man stared at him for several seconds as if he was a moron. He hadn't come to the wrong door or anything even. The man was just upset that the product wasn't already in chunks. Some of the drivers could be bribed for an extra penny to break the whole thing up it seemed. Which Timon was actually willing to do for the man, as part of the service. For free even. The fellow just didn't think he could do it in time to start the freezing for the cream.

"Ah. Where do you want it?" That, it turned out, was a special little room on the first floor, not too far from the kitchen that had a drain in the center of the brickwork. It was nicely polished, the whole thing clean and tidy looking.

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