“That's all we have for you at the moment Tor. There's a situation developing I'd like to have you look into with Smythe, that may be a while though, but try to stay ready for it and Count Lairdgren has requested you attend him in Grenwyn two weeks before the date, no matter what. See to that, will you? Other than that, the rest of this communication is for Sandra Morris…”
Handing the device back, Tor went off to find some way to be marginally useful while things got into place. What he ended up doing was just handing off houses to the Cannor military people, some of them women he noted, and arranging for them to give them out at need. Then he went and started baking crackers. Bread would have to come later.
Every few hours he checked on Sam and his novel build, helping him with some gentle corrections a few times. In all the boy was doing a lot better than he would have done at that age, Tor thought. Not that anyone had let him try. The kid got fed crackers and water, not having much else and one small bowl of fish soup, but he’d gone decently deep. He still chewed and swallowed, but didn't shift much when fed. It was a little eerie, worse because he knew on a very real level that he looked exactly the same when working himself.
A little past noon the boy's eyes opened as Tor sat watching him, the build had probably been done for two hours, but it took practice to learn that kind of thing. Better to work a little long and be certain of it. Grinning Tor took the template and set it on the bed, giving the sigil a little tap when Sam signaled for him to do it.
The device looked like worn wood for the casing, with a brass funnel and two large stone wheels that turned in opposite directions. The other builders and Rolph all came over and started clapping, making the Printer boy duck his head bashfully.
“Master Tor helped, a lot really.” He said, pleased anyway.
Sticking out his tongue Tor made a raspberry sound.
“A bit, but the next one you'll get on your own. You've got what’s needed now. Bring me the plans for it when you’re ready. Within the month. Same for the rest of you. First years at least.” He waved at the older two gently. “You two already know this stuff, but let's collaborate on some things? In the Novel Building theory book it says that people can work together, but I've never tried it. Supposed to be faster and stronger though, which with all of us should be impressive, don't you think?”
They all worked then, as hard as could be managed, wearing down as the week progressed, the water receding and the food and shelter situation being repaired rapidly. Tor didn't have that much to do really, so mainly baked, washed dishes and helped build some structures with the pro's from the military. It was good to keep his hand in after all. Plus there was a simple beauty to making something out of focus stone, knowing that the work would last and last, even after the magic houses had all faded and gone away.
No one knew how long they'd last really. Tor had always figured a year or two for his fields, but even the earliest things he'd made were still around, so that was about four years now. Not bad. Some of the best built stuff lasted decades, but it took time to find that kind of thing out.
He made a point of apologizing to each of the men from the base he saw, but oddly no one made and issue of it or let him do more than bow about half way. They seemed pleased enough that he bothered to try though, at least they mainly smiled at him about it.
Slowly, over the course of a few days, people moved out of the safety of Canton and went home to rebuild themselves. They didn't have all their things, but the winter chill wouldn't kill them now and food was available. Tor made up a few extra fishing boats, a single batch of a hundred, and rented them out for half the catch. That way people could keep up a good level of trade with Ross and Ford.
Getting home was a pain, but they all made it and most of them even got to their classes the next day, even if they were dragging horribly the whole time. Guide came to him at lunch and passed him a build plan. The idea was novel, but simpler than Sam’s mill and would probably even work.
It was for a fake fire. It took heat from the ground, a bit shamelessly copied from Tor’s temperature plates, which the boy had copied hundreds of times, and made an illusion of fire that the heat came out of, and even a few logs beneath it for decoration. It was Guide's though, no one could doubt that. Tor had never thought of anything like it. A portable fire? Brilliant really. Who didn't like a nice cozy fire?
Tor moved the kid into his room for the work, because it wasn't that simple a thing and Guide wasn't fast at working, not yet. Tor even had to go to all the younger man's teachers and beg time for him to make the attempt, but after six days, he'd done it. No corrections from Tor even and the template was strong and clear, easy to copy. It was a bit of a struggle to keep up with his own work copying and doing some new building himself, while holding his schoolwork and marriage together at the same time as helping to care for Guide, but somehow he managed, if just barely.
Rolph hadn't complained or even questioned that a young boy was sitting cross legged on a small bed pad in their room for a week. The first day he'd looked at the boy strangely, but after that he did half the feeding and watering duties without even being asked. That was just the kind of guy Rolph was.
Prince of the kingdom maybe, but he was a Prince among men first. Anyone doubting that didn't know Tor's friend half as well as they assumed.
Tor worked through most of the night several times, pushing into a dangerously deep state to get things done in time, but by the time Guide opened his eyes, Tor had a few novel things ready himself and managed to send off packages to the store in Printer and to Debbie down in the Capital city. One went to Dorgal Sorvee and a smaller one got sent to Meredith Sorvee on a whim. She'd married into Debri house, so it wouldn't be hard to find her. It was mainly her wedding presents, but a few things to sell too, and some toys for her kids, Not-flyers that had impact shields build in.
The boy went to sleep in Tor’s bed immediately, so Tor worked through the night making copies of things, taking the now vacant working pad on the floor. Not Guide's fires, because they weren't Tor’s to mess with. He did test the field out carefully though and judged it to be nearly perfect. The blaze was a little off color, too red by several shades and the heat radiated in a perfect sphere except directly underneath, not matching the fire illusion perfectly, but in all it was better than his own first novel build. More interesting by far.
A wave of pride filled him for his young friend. Now they just needed to get the others going in a similar fashion and Tor could practically retire and do something else for a while. Slower more complex building, or maybe music? Out of all the new classes he was beginning to like that one the most. He had a lot to learn, but it was fun.
He hardly sounded like he was strangling his violin at all anymore.
As soon as Guide woke, cleaned up and ate, Tor had him make ten copies of his fire on copper plate, the word fire etched into the corner with a specialized cutter that Tor had already made just for the purpose. It was easier to work in metal than stone, and the design was what Guide had already drawn up, the word glimmered nicely in the corner of the metal.
Then he packed the boy off to Instructor Fines. He was the novel build Instructor for the school after all and this was that without a single doubt. Tor didn't speak when they found him in his office, the man bent over a paper, reading it closely. He looked up, surprised to see him. Tor winked and set the metal plate on the floor and hit the sigil, the fire coming to life about three feet away, so the plate would never get too hot.
The man looked at it and nodded.
“Not… bad. I like the heat. Good spread. Though you normally don't bring me your work anymore, am I supposed to be noticing something here?” He sounded pleased, but not too impressed.
“Only that it isn't my work. Builder Guide here did it. By himself. Totally novel build. It's solid too, and the template is clean and easy to copy. Just thought you might like to see it.” If Tor sounded smug, well, he was a little. His friend had done it, a novel build and at only fourteen!
Fines clapped and looked amazed for a second.
“Wonderful! How's your copy work?” The instructor asked, settling his old frame back into the old wooden chair with scratches and lines scored into the wood, behind a very similar looking desk.
Guide moved his head side to side a little, “kind of slow sir.”
Tor nodded. It was true, but he clarified for the Instructor, knowing that he'd want specifics.
“Yeah, he does solid work, clean, but can only do about ten copies every three hours so far, without a template. I'm thinking that he should work on some speed drills for that, he can do faster work, it's just a matter of practice. We should have some novel builds coming from some of the other first years too, soon. I have to leave for a while, in about a month, but I'll try to move them along, so they can do their own work before that. Right now I think we need to push meditation skills and copy work, which is basically what they'd be doing anyway, if I
