The Builder (The Young Ancients) (14 page)

“Wensa! Come tell these men out here why you keep staring at me, will you?” The woman actually blinked at him and rose without hesitation, her hands going to a small pouch on either side of her belt. She stalked over like a beast of some kind, smooth and sinuous.

Dorgal looked outraged that Tor would do something other than cower, which made Tor want to laugh. As if any of this was about him. Stupid bully. If Tor could make it about the other man he would of course. Less for him to worry about. Let Wensa and Dorgal dance with each other for a few minutes instead of plaguing him. Confusion to his enemies and all that.

The Royal Guard captain moved through the door quickly, weapons pointed. Before anyone else could speak, Tor did.

“Bullies, meet Royal Guard Captain Wensa. Wensa, meet the bullies that think your attentions towards me are amorous. I'll leave you four to discuss your collective plans to “get me” or whatever it is your kind do. And yes, Wensa, I get that you probably plan to kill me over this. But you know what? Either do it, or leave me alone. I have work to do and no time to play with fools that can't see me for what I am.”

Tor stormed off trying to act offended and haughty, waiting until he got all the way around the corner to start hyperventilating. God, she was going to kill him now. No one had told him he couldn't tell people who she was, but her presence was obviously a secret of some sort. Maybe they'd have to remove her now? Then again, maybe she'd just kill them all to protect her secret? He really needed to get the work done on that shield as soon as possible. Then all he'd have to do was wear it around for the rest of his life. Yeah, that would work. Bathing was overrated anyway, he thought, his skin instantly itching in response to the idea of being unclean.

That night, instead of sleeping, he decided to get what work done he could on the shield project. After all, the old deadline he'd been set wouldn't make any difference if he was dead, would it? As soon as Rolph went to bed he started working, just sitting in the dark, eyes closed, mentally tracing the sigils that ran the circle, reminding him what he needed to do. Some of the really good builders didn't even have to use sigils at all, holding all the information in their heads perfectly. He could feel the basic patterns with his mind of course, so he didn't need light to see the marks or even to have his eyes open. Each floated in the darkness behind his eyes, a presence rather than a picture. It was enough to work with.

First the physical protections, he captured the feeling of the needed field in his mind, an object coming towards him deciding to turn back the other way with the exact force it came with. Then he held that sense, let it grow and live, co-existing with the wooden template in his hands. Letting it merge with the wood itself.

Then the scattering, a hard concept to hold, but one that he found would spread the coherent pattern of any cutter or blast, disrupting it totally. It took longer to establish, because it was just so new to him. It would have been easier if he could have gotten a sense of it from another shield that already existed, but that had been forbidden him. More to the point, he didn't have access to anything like that and never had, so even if he wanted to cheat, it wasn't an option.

This had to be linked to the next field, the sifting one that kept out particles and then the one for heat. They all had to be held carefully in mind the whole time, each moment letting the whole grow stronger and stronger, then the spread of force into the ground and the other ten ideas he'd come up with for it had to be put into the wood. After eight hours he heard Rolph get up and move around, but he couldn't let the field go. Wouldn't.

Thankfully it was an off day for him, so he didn't have to go anywhere. He didn't eat or move for hours longer. Finally, once the whole thing became a single concept, once it had merged together as a single entity, one unique being, he let himself get up and go to the restroom. Tor held the concept in mind even as he made his way to the small room at the end of the interior hall. Letting the field go even for an instant would weaken it. He could rebuild it, now that he had the idea of what the whole thing felt like, but it would take hours to get it back to its current strength.

Better to hold it now, no matter how hard. His mind tried to stray, hours of focus did that to him, but Tor didn't let the idea go, clinging to it as if his life depended on it. This time it just might he knew. It took twice as long to do everything this way, his physical movements slow and careful. Longer than that even. It didn't matter as long as he kept the field going. He had all day.

Before dinner time Rolph came in, changed his clothing and left without speaking. Then he came back again and slept, the presence oddly reassuring to Tor. He couldn't think about that of course, not consciously, but the deepest part of his mind always felt a little vulnerable when he worked like this. If anyone attacked him, he'd never see it coming. In fact he may never notice it at all, just die. His friend wouldn't let that happen.

When Rolph got up the next day he opened his eyes and nodded to the man. The field was holding well enough so far. It was too complex to just let go yet, it needed to linger within his focus until it simply wouldn't fade without his attention. But he also had classes. He started to panic for a bit, then turned his mind back to the task at hand. Tor spoke one sentence as Rolph left.

“Tell them I won't be in today.” It came out sounding flat and dead, but he hadn't meant it as an order. Hopefully it would be enough and Rolph would let them all know what he was up to. If not... Well, he didn't have time to worry about that. He had to survive if they wanted him to go to lessons at all.

The next day, about the time Rolph was about to leave, Tor stood up. A pitcher of water was next to him, put there the day before most likely. He filled the cup and drank, then kept doing that until the whole thing was empty.

“Gah.” He croaked making his voice sound like a frog had moved in.

Rolph gave him a strange look and winced visibly. “I hope all that wasn't for the food dryer idea...” He sounded worried. Almost panicked at the idea.

Tor almost choked on his reply, a bubble of laughter coming out instead. “This? No, this is that shield project thing. That, the wood piece there on the desk? That's the food dryer. Sorry, I finished it days ago. It works on fruits and vegetables, not meat yet; I didn't want to risk drying out people or whole animals. I haven't put it on metal, but I can... Um, later though, OK? I know that this probably doesn't look that hard, but...”

Rolph held up a hand and told him to lie down while he went to steal some food for him. Tor decided to just sleep for a bit, hungry but too tired to worry about food. His eyes closed on their own, heavy and almost stinging when he forced them open, so he didn't fight it letting darkness close over him gently. A while later someone, Rolph he thought, shook him awake and made him drink something. It was a thick broth. He almost told him that he wasn't sick, needing invalid food, just tired, but then Tor realized that it wasn't his friend holding the cup, but Trice. Over by his desk Rolph and Sara looked at the food dryer. Playing with it actually.

“I wonder what the range on this is.” Sara said softly. She wore all black again, kind of a uniform for people in her section he guessed. She looked nice, blond hair long enough to show she was a girl, but not so long that it would be easy to use against her in a fight just a little under shoulder length.

Pushing the cup away for a second, he swallowed.

“About a five-foot square. Under the dryer and centered. That's the size of a wagon loading bin. Just, if you're doing that much at once you need to have it in something open on the bottom so it can drain. A mesh or slats or something. The water will just dump out. Probably want to be outside too. I tried a single apple and soaked my notebook. On the good side, it turns out the clothing dryer works on paper too.”

Trice shook her head and gave him more to drink. Then she felt his head, so he gave her a hard look. He really wasn't sick and while the broth was good, he just needed to sleep.

Rolph and Sara both asked him something, sounding excited. Tor thought it was if they could take the food dryer out and test it. He told them yes, to get them all to go away and fell back to sleep. When he got up it was dark out, and Rolph was back in his own bed again, breathing heavily. It wasn't a snore at least. Now, if his brothers could be trusted, he snored, but Rolph didn't.

Then Tor checked the shield template carefully, activated it and picked up the small cutter he'd built, sweeping it across his arm, hoping the shield worked. No blood rushed forth, so that was a good sign. No pain either, but that didn't mean much. A cutter didn't really hurt, it just separated things. You could lose a finger and not even notice it until the blood became a nuisance. One reason to stick with nice old fashioned knives for most things. At least with them the horrible pain would let you know if you were killing yourself.

Being quiet he finished the initial testing, trying to burn himself with a candle, inhale the smoke, and even dripping the hot wax on his arm. The wax settled on him after a second of hovering above the field, but it was hard and cool when it landed. Excellent.

Taking out the ten plates he'd marked for the purpose, little half-hand sized ones in copper, with a basic circle for a sigil, etched in acid again, just because it looked professional. Tor set to making copies of the template carefully. It took about two and a half hours, but gave him ten perfect shields. Each should last for years, unless he screwed up somewhere. It seemed alright. Now all the new field had to do was get him through the test. If he lasted that long with Wensa coming for him.

All of the shield plates had two little holes punched in them at the top, so that he could run a string or tether through them, letting him wear one around his neck. He didn't know what anyone else did to secure their shields, but that kind of thing could be changed later if needed. The field as a whole was the hard part. Now, even if he had to rebuild the whole thing, he could do it way faster. Changes would be a pain, but nothing too major comparatively. In a very real way he knew the field now, so it was part of him and he was a part of it. Someone good enough at doing such things could probably feel his presence even in the copies of any field he'd created as a novel build. Maybe even if someone else had made them.

After that he laid back down for a nap until morning. Then he could try and test the whole thing carefully and under greater force. If that worked, he could go and see if Kolb wanted to try it out early. If it wasn't good enough then he needed to know as fast as possible. That Wensa hadn't broken the door down to get at him in his sleep was probably just her waiting for a more convenient time.

When Rolph got up and dressed, before breakfast, Tor stopped him outside in the commons and asked the giant to hit him as hard as he could. He tapped the shield to activate it just in time. Rolph didn't hesitate at all, or ask questions, didn't even blink. The blow came in hard and fast and then... just stopped. The ground under Tor made a soft popping sound, almost a click, but nothing else happened.

Tor didn't budge at all, which earned a narrowing of eyes and a half dozen more blows and a single kick, all with the same thing happening. Rolph stopped and the ground made a soft clicking sound. Without asking if it would work, his giant friend pulled something from his green tunic and aimed it at Tor's arm at an angle so that it wouldn't hit dead on, and when nothing happened, re-aimed at his middle, getting the same result.

“Heh! That's good. This lance is, um, special. Technically I'm not allowed to have it at school, and your shield treated it perfectly. If you can stop this, a simple cutter won't be a problem. Ready to have the weapons guys go over it then?”

Tor really would have liked more testing first, a slow and progressive thing that would show any flaws in a safe environment. Done over weeks or months. On someone else. Ideally Dorgal Sorvee or one of his friends. It was sensible and would hurt a lot less in the long run. Knowing that wouldn't have time to happen with Wensa around he nodded. If you can't be smart, might as well embrace being stupid. He told his friend that he'd go after lunch. Looking around he saw a flash in the corner of his eye that he thought was probably Wensa spying again.