P. Power - Knight Esquire

“Master Tor… This is… Thank you! That you care this much about our comfort means a lot to us all.”

Tor held up the rest of what was in the package and explained quickly.

“Shields, a new batch, made a new way, but they seem to be holding well so far. These can’t be sold or traded for anything, understood? Each lady should have one and wear it any time she’s out, or if she goes to the Capital or anything for a trip, but they need to come back here and not find their way to the black market. The King will have my behind if that happens. If anyone needs gold that badly for something, please tell them to just come see me, all right? No need to risk getting in trouble or anything. It’s just, it occurred to me that if someone can lift our cooks, they might want our ladies of industry too. Good luck trying that now!” He smiled and handed the shields over. He just hoped there were enough. He really had no clue how many women worked here. Tor could get them more shields if need be.

“Ladies of industry?” The madam chuckled a little at the term but didn’t mock him overly for it.

Tor grinned and gave her a seated half bow. If someone was doing a job you needed done, it was best not to make them feel uneasy about it, right? You don’t mock a barber and then go for a haircut. He kind of needed to do that himself soon. His hair was getting shaggy enough that Kolb would probably start pulling it during practice to make a point. Absently he rubbed at the straight black mass on his head and winked.

“I need to go now, but please, let me or Countess Thorgood know if there are any problems or if you need anything we can provide. Especially field devices, since I can generally see to that retty easily myself.”

Laughing Clarissa told him that she’d be sure to send over a list. He could tell that she was kidding, but shook his head at her, which got her attention.

“It’s not a joke. If you have a list, send it. I can’t promise instant… anything, but we’ll do our best to see to you and your peoples comfort and safety. Don’t doubt that.”

She bowed low to him when he stood to leave, while holding a curtsy. Ouch. That had to be hard. He took her by the shoulder lightly and helped her stand up. Then patted her on the arm and left. It was always disturbing when people did things like that. He’d have been more comfortable if she’d tried to hug him or something instead.

The kitchen was buzzing with activity but the familiar curly haired girl was gone, which he kind of suspected would be the case. He helped out where he could, which turned out to be on the serving line, the lunch that day being griddle seared, and pan fried, breaded and spiced chicken, potatoes with a creamy dressing and bread rolls. The person doing most of the cooking was a military guy that Tor had never noticed before.

It turned out that his family owned a restaurant. In Galasia of all places. He’d recently joined up with the military when the war started and requested the station, because Tor had helped out his city, saving most of his family. Apparently he wasn’t overly concerned with troll rumors, not being a small child. The man told Tor all of this while working and calling out orders that people, mainly giants and ladies from the house, ran to fulfill as best they could. Sorlee worked on baking with a very familiar, and pretty, tall woman that Tor had taken several beatings from in the last few years. His lips tingled a little in remembered contact too, which caused him to blush a little, but happily enough.

“Petra! How’s it going?” He asked, making his voice sound genial and as happy as he could get it. The large girl turned on him, then sighed deeply and dramatically.

“Oh… it’s you. Well, I knew that it was only a matter of time until the payback came for all those training sessions.” Looking around she leaned in slightly and whispered.

“Truth is we all suck at this Tor. If it wasn’t for Sorlee and Will the restaurant fellow, we’d be standing around grunting and trying to break jars open with rocks. “Ooog me Petra, me cook good” I was all ready to come in and act all superior, all “Counserina of the kitchen” but I’m totally lost. I don’t know anything about baking at all. Honestly, I kind of thought that bread came off the top of the stove until about an hour ago. Did you know that it’s all made in the oven?”

Seriously Tor nodded, trying to keep any hint of a smile from his face, “so I’ve heard. Except for pancakes, some flat breads, pita and tortillas. You probably got the idea of how all bread was made from one of those.”

Petra just threw her hands out to the side and sputtered a little. It was very cute, Tor decided.

“See? I’m so confused.”

Sorlee laughed and patted the huge woman on the arm.

“You’re doing fine. Bread and sweet rolls next. Breads like early rolls… Sweet rolls…” The country girl looked at Tor and spouted a string of real speech for him to translate.

“She’s saying that sweet rolls are a little different, so you can’t use the same bread recipe, but it still has yeast. There’s more sugar, so it takes a little longer to rise. Today she wants to do a currant cinnamon roll. The only thing is, she has to go and practice her transport flying, she’s soloing to the Capital today, so after she shows you how to make the first pan or two, you’ll need to do it yourself.”

The huge girl turned red, and then white. For a few seconds Tor wondered if they were going to lose her to combat rage, but then she shook her head and sighed a little sadly. “I’m not ready for that…”

“I’ll check in on you every few hours, don’t worry, you won’t really be alone and besides, you can do this. Just, take notes so you don’t forget anything and remember, the key to good baking is largely paying attention. It’s like a fight that way, so you have the needed skills. These ovens won’t fluctuate in temperature like a wood stove even, so by watching the time of the first batch you should be able to have the rest out almost perfectly. You’ll do fine.” Tor patted her on the arm too and wondered why she wasn’t wearing a shield. He was. For that matter, if Sorlee and Haper were making a town trip he wanted them to have shields on. Just in case someone wanted to try and take their transport. Who would do that? The guys from the flight school came to mind for some reason.

Tor changed and dropped those devices off on his way to see Kolb, sending ten extra for the people at the delivery service with Sorlee. Since half the combat giants were gone, Kolb decided to work with Tor himself that day.

Yay. Special attention.

Tor had to run again, but not as far, because he was already so sore. The stone work was abridged too, thank god. That just left a nearly hour long beating from the weapons instructor. For the first time ever, the man was actually just hitting him. With his hands and feet at least. With the sword and stick he let Tor have some vastly over-sized practice armor. It swam on him so much that it almost wasn’t worth having; the sleeves covered his arms and part of the weapon, which was fine with the sword. After all, you grabbed the handle and swung, without ever letting go. The stick, which required frequent changes of hand position, was nearly impossible. He even dropped it once, without Kolb even touching him. The man just grinned wickedly and moved on him with his own stick. Tor back pedaled then gave his battled cry, the very one Kolb had spent years drumming into his head.

“Run away!”

“About time you remembered that Tor. One duel with a half mental defective Count and you stop even trying to get away. Not everyone is going to be a wimp like Rodriguez, picking on children… Good, now we can start on the real work. Tomorrow though. Bring your shield, flying rig and anything else you think might help you in a fight. Bring enough to share if you have new things. Run first and meet me here at three tomorrow.”