Lord of the Sky (The Young Ancients: Timon) (25 page)

It took a bit and some persuasion for the others, but all of them were healed about twenty minutes later, the four men walking away without looking back, except the one that was from Lyn's land. It was probably an interesting story, the reason why he was so far from home, but it also wasn't something Tim cared about overly. After all, he was supposed to be shopping and wanted to get some things for the morning meal.

Deidre was clearly flagging, this being an unusual time for her to be walking around, but they hit six more shops and stands just as they opened, meaning they got some very nice deals. Most of it was fresh, but they got extra, since it was both cheap and he had a cold box for storage now, so it would keep longer.

He put up his fast craft about halfway through and started to load things in the back, driving it like a cart through the streets. That meant going no faster than a walk, since people stared and watched him, sometimes from the middle of the road, directly in front of them.

The dark skinned whore just sat, as if she belonged there, not commenting until after they'd haggled for the last of what would be needed.

"That was pretty smart, healing those men. I don't have any diseases. We don't here in Noram, not sex ones. He was from Tellerand, I think. They have that kind of thing there and sometimes try to blame us, because their one god makes them feel bad about what they're going to do anyway. It's stupid, but I don't need a beating for it either. Sorry they made trouble for you."

There was a bit of simple charm to her words, even though it wasn't an apology at all. Just an explanation that it hadn't been her fault.

That was fine, for what it was worth, but Timon was feeling like he wanted to be rid of her already. It wasn't that she'd done anything wrong really, just that her stupidity pulled at him, making him feel annoyed and like she was a bother, instead of someone to chat with. Really, he kind of wished that he'd just waited a bit and gone shopping on his own. She kept talking then, because, like many slightly slow people, she didn't know when to shut up.

Oh, he got what was happening. Perhaps better now than he would have before Nora and all that. The woman was used to people treating her as precious, or at least smarter than she was, because most men found cute girls to be interesting. They
were
, if you wanted to have sex with them. The second that went away, or if you had a reason not to feel like that toward them, then their good looks didn't fix the rest of their problems. With Deidre it was a simple fact that everything she did probably lent itself to being trouble for someone, eventually. She wasn't the kind of person to sit back and let life happen after all.

She also wasn't bright enough to manage what came at her.

He actually felt bad for thinking that for a few minutes as they rode back toward the Ward's estate, not speaking. That was new. Really, it shouldn't have been happening at all. He recognized the idea from having been told about it before, and even that it had been happening to him, off and on over the last weeks...

"Tor. That
jerk
!" The exclamation got the woman next to him to go wide eyed, but she didn't ask what he meant. That was a simple response to how angry he suddenly seemed, no doubt. He felt it too.

It took a while, but he was able to find when it had happened, when Tor had a chance to work on him directly, changing his pattern. A few weeks before Noram Day he'd gone up to Lairdgren to see his brother, and stayed the night, sleeping in a room down the hallway from his.

It had to be then, because, as far as he knew, even Tor needed several hours to make things like that work. His brother had talked about the need for him to have a conscience. That he should feel guilt for things that he'd done, or apparently even thought, but Tim had expressly told him he didn't
want
that. Not at all. Who would?

Inside he seethed for a while his throat working as he both swallowed his rage and tried not to cry. It was too much and too unfair. It was also horrible timing. Was he going to start feeling bad about everything now? Like killing Nora Allan? She'd deserved it, but now he didn't know how he was going to end up feeling about it at all. He felt...

Violated.

Like someone was forcing their will on him, again. Without his permission. It was tempting to just take off right at that moment and go to confront his brother over the whole thing, but that wouldn't do any good. What was he going to do, fight him? Tor would just strip his shielding away, and lecture him about not being violent. That or beat him. It was the kind of thing he was famous for.

No, he had to do something that would make Tor feel bad, to teach him not to abuse their relationship again. Timon shook, but an idea started to form. It came slowly for him, but it was the kind of thing that his brother wasn't prepared to fight against.
Intrigue
. He had all the pieces that he needed, and a deep knowledge of where Tor came from, his preconceived notions and more, what would make him very angry, but feel like he couldn't strike back at all. There were so many things that would work.

They rode the rest of the way in silence, with him actually examining his thoughts over the last weeks, trying to make certain he was right and not just blaming Tor for things that were responses to being hurt and traumatized. Just lashing out wasn't a good thing after all. If there was no reason for it, then he could pull back and not be an insane person.

It was there. He could feel it now that he knew to pay attention. Not only had he been changed, on several levels, but his brother had done it to him, without even asking if he should.

It took a bit to load the craft with all the supplies, but there was handy storage space in the kitchen, so they didn't have to disturb any of the still resting people. About half of them had gotten up and left, by the time Deidre and he were back. The older man that had made a bed appear for instance, was gone, along with his instrument case.

The people at the front of the craft were too, since the seats couldn't have been all that comfortable really. Looking in he realized that both Trice and Countess Ward were still there, but they actually were sleeping still, so he put together a small meal for everyone, and then put a large table in the front area, for all the food to be laid out for people to pick at.

He still needed plates and silverware. He hadn't gotten any at the market. Bowls too. Pots and pans, as well as drinking glasses.

"Deidre, do you need a ride home?"

She hugged him, which made his skin crawl a bit. He knew she wasn't diseased, but the thought of that man's claims worked too well with his preconceived feelings about women at the moment. Blanking his mind he waited, but the woman just started to walk out, waiting for him to follow her. It wasn't far at least.

The woman had a place of her own, which was just a ways into the city itself from where they were, with some nice looking palm trees planted in front of the low, white colored, building.

"Across the way from the house. You can find me here, or there, if you want, for anything. I probably won't see you again, but it would be fun. You're a nice boy." The way she said it would have been an insult to most people his age, he realized, since it ignored his value sexually and that was clearly her point. She was teasing him, since he hadn't tried to get her to have sex with him.

He'd forgotten that his disguise amulet was still in place, making him seem older than he was. To her that probably made it a much bigger issue. Maybe not. She sold herself for a living, so probably wasn't that picky about who she worked for at the moment.

"You should see about writing that letter to Tor, or having it written." She probably couldn't read or write. Most people could, in the cities, but she really wasn't the type that anyone would have wasted long term schooling on, not overly.

She didn't mention it, but nodded, even if it was clear that she didn't think it would work. That was probably true, if she'd been dealing with anyone else in the world and not a push over, like his brother.

She climbed out, the smaller vehicle having a hatch on the right hand side, behind her seat. It was his normal silver cube, so a few of her neighbors came out to gawk at them as she did it.

"It was good to meet you, Tim Baker."

"Likewise, Deidre." He didn't know her last name. For that matter, he didn't know if she even had one. Some people just didn't after all.

As he drove away, floating above the ground in his magical vehicle, a thing that gave him power in the world that was well out of proportion of what even King's normally had, Timon felt sorry for the whore he was leaving behind him. She was too stupid to make it on her own and no one with the power to help her loved her enough to do the work for her. It made him feel bad for a while, even as he settled in front of a pottery store. At least he thought that was what the place was. There were cheap looking dishes out front and, after putting the craft away, he saw that inside there were nicer things, with fine glazes on them that made them looked both colorful and rich. He found some that he liked and looked at the woman that stood there staring at him.

"How much for these?" He waved at the shelf the green and black dishware was on, only to have the women laugh at him.

"More than you probably want to spend. Two silvers for a set of six. That includes cups, but..."

Timon smiled at the woman, who was nearly fifty and had a long face that wasn't all that attractive. Her work, if it was hers, was good. He pulled a gold coin from his little purse, the one inside his right hand pocket.

"I need pots and pans too. Metal by preference, can I get those around here?" That got her attention at least. It was pretty clear that she'd thought he was a poor workman. A youngish one at that. Looking down at his plain brown clothing he couldn't blame her. Gold was gold, and would spend, no matter who it came from, or what he seemed to be wearing.

"I... have some things here, but all in clay. Down the street there's a shop, owned by my father's brother's son. He's a bastard, but he won't rob you. You might check there." The inflection on the word and the lack of calling the man her cousin made him think that she wasn't calling him names, but rather mentioning that his parentage just wasn't certain.

"Alright, I'll take this set then and give him a try."

It was all just shopping and haggling for a while after that, but he picked up a lot of things that they'd need. The silver was pricey, since he got the real kind and a set of ten, which cost fifteen gold. It was the rest of the coin he had on him, but it wouldn't wear out instantly or anything. He could have it for years and then melt it down for the metal, if it ever wore out.

It was nearly eleven in the morning when he started fixing food, and, thankfully that meant that most of the people that had stayed the night were gone, so he didn't have to actually interact with them. He normally got along with people well enough, but the whole discovery that he'd made left him feeling edgy and a bit out of sorts. It wasn't just the sense of guilt, which wasn't that bad yet, but that it had been done to him. Like another rape.

The idea left him shaking, but he had that under control by the time that the sliced fruit and fresh morning bread was ready. He knew that in Warden people ate lightly, early in the morning. Bread and fruit mainly, most days. He could do
other
things too, naturally, but this would work for the time being.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" The deep voice was Marvin, which made sense, because he was probably wondering if Timon had run off with his wife forever. He had to walk from the kitchen, but found that the man or someone with him, had been smart enough to open the side door. It wasn't locked, but you couldn't hear through it, if it was closed.

Behind him stood Kedrin, who was smiling, and the Baron and his family. Behind them, on a heavy, but small cart, which was drawn by a pony, was a chest. Without waiting he waved them all in, and handed over the Cutter's that he'd made for the man.

"These will last at least a few years. Possibly longer." They were on silver, which wasn't as good as stone, but was still considered quality work.

The man tested each one, using a roughly finished board that he'd brought with him. No one else seemed to mind and he certainly didn't, but Kedrin looked ready to clout the man in the head.

The Baron was pretty happy with the quality of the items anyway and smiled warmly about it.

"
Excellent
work. Very well done. Here I thought that I was coming to complain without possible effect, my own Countess unable to help me at all. I'll have to complain to the Count more often at this rate." He chuckled and gestured for the four guardsmen to bring in the heavy case. "Fresh from the bank. I'm afraid it was a bit of a rush, so we haven't had a chance to put them in smaller portions. It isn't meant as an insult, please don't take it that way." The man bowed, and his wife actually looked a bit embarrassed by the lack of such a basic courtesy, but Wallace just stared at the inside of the craft, like he was considering getting one for himself.

"Uh... This is really nice." The young man seemed to mean it and the rest of them nodded about it, even as the large men in their red and blue outfits, marking them as the Baron's guard, set the case down on the floor, about ten feet from the door.

The King's brother clapped a few times.

"It is. Truly. We should go, since I think I smell the early meal and we don't want to intrude."