P. Power - Knight of the Realm

“Alright. You can have anything you want from the store and… would a ten percent cut be all right?” Tor was fine with that, but he asked what exactly she meant, not wanting to be taken by surprise. She intended to take a ten percent from each sale. Her eyes looked guilty and head dropping she offered to take five. Ah. That wasn't what Tor expected at all.

“No. Fifty-fifty. You make whatever deals you need to. Heck, give them away if you want. I'll trust in your business sense in this. Let me know if you need anything else, all right? I'm living on the beach in front of the Countess’s house for the moment… really you can't miss it. I'll be working a lot for a while, but don't be afraid to try and knock on the door if you need me. I may not hear it, part of the working trance, you know? But I seldom yell at people just for visiting. I may also just be gone soon. Other work… for the kingdom.”

Ethyl swallowed, but mentioned that they'd have to hire guards or something, or else they'd be robbed again. The man, Clark, gray haired and sturdy looking from all the work at the forge promised they would. Tor decided to just bring them back a couple of shields. It would be cheaper and was legal as long as he made a gift of them. In a way these were his people now, weren't they? Even if he didn't know them really.

Ethyl helped him select clothes and Clark came in with a shaving kit for him from his shop that had a door that ran between them. They insisted he get some “proper” boots, things that, they both assured him, would look right about town and last long enough to be worth getting. Under things came next, Tor blushing as Ethyl held them up to him. While not true giants, the merchants were big compared to him. Ethyl was about five-eight and Clark over six-foot, and broad, muscular for an older man. Tor felt like when his mother had taken the kids into Marie's shop in Two Bends as a little kid.

“Say,” Ethyl asked as Clark made a nice arrangement of glowing stone pendants and put some on leather thongs for sale. “You didn't mention your name. People will want to know who the young upstart giving Tor a run for his money.”

“Well, no competition at all really… I'm Tor. Torrance Baker. Sorry I should have said earlier.”

Ethyl went wide eyed like he'd just announced he wanted to marry a cow, but Clark held up a clothes dryer and waved it a bit as its distinctive “D” sigil glowed in a light lavender on the front.

“Obviously,” he chuckled and gave Tor a wink. “You kind of have to be someone, don't you? Normal people don't just carry things like this around with them all the time.”

They lent him a sack to carry everything in, and it fairly brimmed as he stumbled over the loose rocks of the beach toward his door. When he tripped for the third time Tor stopped and glared at the earth. Stupid uneven ground… Smiling at his own silliness he went inside and grabbed a compressor unit. It took half an hour but he made a nice, very smooth walkway to the mouth of the path that led to Holly's house, merging them almost seamlessly. He could chop it up later with a cutter, when he left. If the Countess didn't like having an extra little guest house or something. There were nine more of them. Actually, it occurred to Tor, Ethyl and Clark might like to carry houses like his. It was kind of cool, wasn't it? It could be that most people wouldn't want one, since they already had houses and didn't travel that much… All he could do was ask.

Looking up Tor realized that he was running out of time before luncheon, so he hurried to get cleaned up, changed and to the bakery and back before everyone showed up. Tor got in just minutes before they all trooped over, still looking grim and walking slowly. He greeted the girls with hugs and slapped Kolb on the arm.

There weren't enough chairs, so he just stood and served everyone else pie, on little stone plates he'd made and gave them all little forks of the same material. Gray, but smooth. He'd tried for spoons to, but ended up with little paddles instead, the bowl shape would have to be cut out with a special tool, a cutter with an arc in it, but that could be done. Later though, when he had spare time. The knives worked well though, he'd just sharpened them with a cutter. They looked a little unique, but what did anyone expect? It had only been a few hours since he'd found out he was totally without anything in the whole world practically. A single day. Tor thought he was doing pretty well to tell the truth.

Trice looked at him, then his clothes, and nodded at Holly.

“Told you. Tip him over, he pops back up. Poison? Pop. Blind? Pop. Take away everything he owns? Boing.” She grinned and winked at him, “Come back next week, he'll have his own little whorehouse in the back staffed with tiny whores.”

Tor pretended to be shocked at her words. She was normally playful, or had been when they first met, it was good to see her trying again at least.

“Next week? Oohhh,” He said, looking down at the table, chagrined. Then shook his head slowly. “I kind of set you all up with appointments for later today… Yeah. Your tall boots are coming soon but won't be here for a few weeks, special order you know, so you'll just have to make it work for now, all right?” He winced a little and shook his head.

“Mainly sailors, but they were willing to deal, given the class of girl I have going on here, Princesses and Countesses. Kolb's going to have to be a bit flexible as to who he serves, but you know…”

He worked to make his voice sound genuine and apparently did a good enough job that at least Holly bought it, if only for a second. The laugher that came from the others shook the room at the look on her face. Tor went over to her, set down a piece of pie and gave her a hug. She was sitting, so his head was actually higher than hers for once. To his surprise she hugged him back as if it had meaning. Not the lusty sort of thing that Tor was just starting to understand was different than a simple embrace, but one with strength behind it that lingered. In Two Bends people didn't hug unless they were married, or at least betrothed, but the city people were different that way. They even kissed casually, but Tor avoided that. It was off-putting.

Pie all around, Tor offered water as well, since that was all he had at the moment. What he could do though, after filling the little stone cups, from the “tap” in the kitchen sink, was chill it in the cold box for a minute. It already had ice forming on the top when he walked it in, getting a murmur from everyone, except Varley, who'd had similar enough at the palace to not be amazed by it any more. She seemed a little subdued today, so Tor went and gave her a hug too. It got her to smile, but sadly.

Had he done something again? Probably. He'd have to get that book from Holly's house and start really reading it before he started a war or ended up married to a pig or something.

“Right, so I have work to do, but first I think we need to get with the Wards and let them in on what's happening, then contact the Capital with information. I take it that most of you are reporting regularly to the King?” He smiled, but got a head shake from the Countess.

Trice looked at his wide eyed and innocent, over playing it by a good margin.

“Me?” She said meekly.

“You in particular spy girl. Don't think for a second that I don't know about you. You and that Sara Debri too.” It came out as a growl. Tor was trying to play with her, but it sounded like he was pissed. She swallowed but didn't confirm or deny anything. Probably like she was trained to. It had taken almost a year, but Tor had finally come to realize that what he'd originally assumed was the kingdoms spy school, an adjunct to where he and Rolph had gone, just called “the special school”, really was.