The Dark Half of the Sun (The Young Ancients: Timon) (23 page)

They didn't help him move the ice at all, so it did take a few minutes. More than a bit of time actually. There were twenty blocks, which was a lot more than was needed for frozen cream. They didn't even have a hand cranked machine for it. That
and
they wanted it in chunks. There was a clear time schedule, so Timon put on his Not-flyer and triggered his shield. By moving at the ice fast, it drove it away from him. By angling carefully the whole mess was in pieces no large than his hand after about five minutes of this treatment. The thin kitchen man in his fussy red and blue outfit looked slightly scared, rather than pleased.

Probably for not helping him move the stuff, so he could be done sooner. If so that was on him however, not Tim.

The Baron had paid him in advance, trusting that he'd get the job done it seemed, which was good, since even with half an hour of working and unloading cargo the man wasn't back to his home when Tim left. It was a strange thing, wasn't it? Who needed such large amounts of ice? What could you do with it? Hold large amounts of meat, or bodies? Make a huge amount of frozen treats for company? Or show that you simply had the pull to do it. That might be the real issue, he knew. Nobles were strange that way and often did things to show their worth to others that didn't make a whole lot of sense.

Regardless, it wasn't his business. Timon reminded himself not to ask questions, just take the money and do the work.

He headed home to hook his water up, so that it would be acceptable to everyone. The term hit him suddenly. It was
his
. A place made by his own hand, where he had the land for a whole year and no one could boss him around. Except the King, other nobles with higher rank, or possibly his family. That last part was the one he needed to stop. How could he though?

There was one answer. Get a job going for someone powerful enough that even his mother and father wouldn't tell him he couldn't do it. That or he'd have to leave the Kingdom altogether. He sighed to himself and just stood for a little while, looking at the flow of water moving into his house. A place just for him.

The problem with being an adult, he quickly found, was that he couldn't ask anyone else for food on most days. Just as he was about to go and find an open food stall or shop in the city, or even a restaurant, a woman walked toward him, looking... Incredibly angry.

"I'll kill him!" She screamed, louder than was polite for a woman of her years, which looked to be about fifty, and her station, which from her clothing, and pure size, looked to be better than average. She wasn't anyone he recognized, so even if she was looking at him, that death threat wasn't aimed at him personally. That was good, since he really needed to get some food inside him. Being dead would stop that. With all the travel and running from place to place he'd been losing a little weight, he thought.

The lady in front of him screamed again, a bellow that spoke of rage, but not emotional pain. Probably not a broken heart then. Still, she was red already and starting to turn white. Signs of combat rage. She might try to kill him for the crime of being to hand if he wasn't careful.

"Are you well ma'am?" Timon didn't bother walking toward her. If she was going to come for him, she was going to have to do the work. It sounded like a plan at least, until, panting, she gave him a smile.

It was
not
a pleasant thing. It held a coldness and rage that he doubted he'd survive, if it were pointed at him. She was a giantess, but an average one, only about six-six or so. Clearly a noble, and also one that didn't seem precisely sane at the moment.

"I am not someone to easily cast aside! Not without more than a note that says only that my services won't be needed! What am I, some back alley whore given two coppers to kneel and serve?" She opened her mouth and mimed what she meant, in case he didn't get it. He'd never seen that particular act done, but he had seen some pictures that showed how it was achieved, as well as some statues in the "house" at Wildlands Station. He'd delivered some packages there a few times.

He shook his head then, hoping that was close to the right thing to do. It seemed his original sense that this wasn't an affair of the heart might be wrong.

"No. You definitely aren't that. May I ask your name Lady?" That was a decently polite thing to say. He thought so anyway.

She stiffened and snorted, her rage making her words stiff and angry.

"I'm Duchess Keene. Is this near where the fast transport concern is? I've been all over today, trying to book passage or rent a carriage, no one will aid me. I went to the King and the fool told me to walk out here and beg aid. If I can't make it back to my lands within the week, half of what I hold might well be overrun by a faithless buffoon that thinks my only power is a piece of paper. Count Holder seeks to make himself something different than his station. Until it comes to blows the King may not aid me. I have forces and can call on the other Counts of my Duchy in a case such as this." There was a low growl from the woman then, a thing that sent chills down his spine and promised that Count Holder, whoever he was, wouldn't likely live through the night, if she could find him. "My services are no longer needed? Indeed?"

That made a kind of sense, once she told him the problem. Dukes and Duchesses held the lands of several Counts each, normally five. It was pretty much a ceremonial title now though. She was powerful, but in real terms she didn't have much of an army. Any of her Counts could match her, unless she had the aid of the others. In social rank he actually matched her, or nearly enough that no one would care who sat above who at the table.

Timon tapped the coin in his pocket, hoping it was enough for them both to eat. If he was supposed to help her get home and the King had sent her begging, that probably meant he wasn't going to be paid for it.

"I need to eat something, would you care to join me? Before we go to your Duchy I mean? I take it you'll also need me to get you to those other Counts in their places too?" He could do that. If he didn't sleep at least and they didn't take long. If they did, well, he had a promise to keep. "Tomorrow I have to take my older sister to the school at Lairdgren. My grandfather the Count owns it. So it will look bad if she's late. Plus, she wants to make an entrance. Understood, that isn't as pressing as your own concern, but I gave my word already." He affected a shrug of his own, not knowing what she'd say. There was a chance it would be screaming, or annoyance. Even an attack, given her delicate state, so close to losing all control.

Instead she heaved a few deep breaths and stepped toward him quickly.

"I'm sorry... I... don't think I understand totally. You... wish me to eat?" Her hair was red, streaked with gray and white and she looked hot, and smelled it too when she closed. It wasn't foul, but a scent of a person that had walked a good way in the heat.

"Yes, and then I'll take you to your lands, and help as I can, as so far as transport for planning goes. I can't take sides, but you can pay me. It's ten gold per thousand miles flown, each way. Five for you right now, since King Richard sent you. It's a deal we have, he and I. So remember how he got you a good deal later. Is that acceptable?"

She looked down, her face going toward white again.

"No, damn it! I don't have that much on me at the moment. I didn't realize that I'd need it or I would have begun the process of making a withdrawal from the bank. I need to go as fast as I may, but it will have to wait.
Damn it
!" She looked at the sky, which still had a few hours of light left and screamed again. Louder than before, if that was physically possible.

He just stood and watched her, trying not to move more than he had to, not wanting to set her off.

"I understood that part actually. You can pay me later. I know I can trust you for it." He did too. If she didn't pay, he'd never work for her again. Do that too often and word would get around and soon no one would do work without gold in hand.

The closest place with food he could buy was Tor's. Yes, they'd feed him for free, but that wasn't the point. If he was going to be a grown-up at all, he had to start seeing to his own upkeep. To that end he probably needed to hire someone to take care of his house for him. That or get married and as the last week had pointed out over and again, he was too young for that. So a woman to keep his house would be a good idea. Or a man, since he was a boy. He didn't want people to think the wrong thing.

He waved for the Duchess to walk with him, going fast, since her legs were longer than his were. They went right in, which caused her to pause at the door, unsure of what the protocols were in this case, but understanding that anyone with a palace nicer than what the Royal family had probably wasn't someone to impose upon overly. She sighed when the cool air inside hit her, closing her eyes for a moment, even if she was a little put off by his presumption of just going in.

Smiling a little he tugged at her arm to get her to move, since there was a time schedule of sorts. At the kitchen door he stopped and got out two silvers. Glaren nodded to him, then looked up to see who was behind him. She made a disapproving face. One harsher than any he'd ever seen from her at all, by far.

"Why have you brought an animal into my kitchen Countier Baker?" Her features were more than a little hard suddenly, which caught him off guard.

"Oh... we need some food. She's a client, so please be nice. It's a bad situation, so, you know, it would be a good time to be friendly." You didn't just tell people that someone was about to lose it, but not warning the kitchen lady seemed insane. The attractive blonde woman didn't seem to get it at first, even with him making significant eye contact to try and send the message.

"Well, I don't want her here. She hasn't earned the right."

The Duchess went stiff and cold, her skin turning white and eyes going wide. Then her breathing started to shift, going deeper and speeding up. It wasn't a good sign at all. Glaren for her part was totally missing it too.

"Glaren. We need food, and don't have time for this. Just make it and take the silver." Timon didn't like being short with her, and for all that she was glaring at the other woman she wasn't seeing what was happening at all for some reason.

"Water too please. We won't want wine with the food. This is an emergency and I don't have time to explain it all overly."

Glaren glared at
him
then, which was slightly better at least, and her words came out stiff and harsh, but with enough politeness that he couldn't fault her for them. Or, well, he wouldn't anyway. She really didn't seem to like the lady standing behind him at all. Some old slight or battle most likely. Glaren was normally a sweet enough woman, so it probably wasn't her fault either. After a few seconds of hard looks and a bit of heavy breathing of her own she growled at him.

"Very well,
sir
. I'll have something for you in about ten minutes. Do you need anything else?"

He did actually, it was why he had two coins after all.

"Can I beg a crust of bread or some cheese? I haven't eaten recently and won't be able to in-flight. I know it's an imposition..."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head for a few seconds then gave him a tight smile and moved to get him a small plate of things from different cold boxes and cupboards. It was enough to tide him over, easily. A full meal, if a cold one. She didn't offer the Duchess anything he noticed, which was a sign of near hatred from her, no doubt. Timon didn't offer anything either, figuring he could share if it was needed.

They moved out the door to the smaller dining room behind them, and sat, the plate set carefully between them as the older woman fumed a bit. She did take a bit of sharp yellow cheese and nibbled it with a distinct lack of interest.

"I didn't know that she'd be here, or I wouldn't have come in. We used to be friends. I got caught up in a bit of intrigue and it..." The woman sighed and took another bite of cheese. "I cost her a good marriage. Baron Coltress? A true love match. It wasn't my intent and I wasn't alone in it, but I can't blame her for her feelings now. Probably spitting in the food as we speak. If not poisoning it."

Tim ate a little more avidly than the Duchess did and finally shrugged.

"I hope not, since I'll be eating it too. That does sound like a bad situation... Maybe next time we can avoid bringing you to the door like that? I was trying to get things done quickly, not cause anyone pain." That had happened anyway. There was a real point to it all, wasn't there?

Most of the nobles past a certain age probably had something or other that would be like that, which meant that he didn't just have to manage time schedules, but seating arrangements and probably fifteen other factors that he hadn't thought about at all before. Who sat where, who got picked up first and in what order. It was going to be a pain.

For half a second Timon went still, trying to work out how to do that, finally deciding that it would be done by rank, and with a lot of blunt language.

It wasn't Glaren that came out, but a man who looked familiar from the other day, holding not just one, but two full baskets.

"Bottles of chilled water instead of wine, as you requested sir. Glaren asked me to extend her apologies for her behavior earlier." He bowed when he said it and from the tension in his shoulders it seemed that he might just have been lying to try and smooth things over, not report what was actually said by the woman. The odd thing there was that he bowed to Timon, not the Duchess at all.