hard he doubted she missed anything he did at all. Ever. It was annoying and more than a little scary. Tor started wondering if she was watching him in the restroom somehow too? Or the bath? He didn't really think so, but checked for spy holes anyway. More than once.
The worst part came when Dorgal waited for him after dinner on the fifth night. The bully didn't normally stoop to eating with people like Tor and hadn't been at the meal itself, but stood right outside the door. Lurking, with a wicked look on his face, which was pretty normal for him, kind of a go-to facial expression as far as Tor could tell. He had two of his buddies with him, an older guy, Marko, who was a fifth year, Tor thought. The other kid, well, he wasn't a kid at all, older than any of them. Probably too old to be at the school, at least without a student to take them around as a guest. That man didn't say anything, standing at the back of the little group, taking pains to look menacing. If he wasn't trying then he had the worst case of sinister grin ever. He just looked angry, like he was about to attack without hesitation.
“So, little Baker boy… I hear you have a new girlfriend.” The last word was said with amusement. Marko laughed, but the other man, well dressed in black and green silk with dark slacks and boots dark enough that the color couldn't be seen in the dim evening light, didn't move or smile at the lame joke the moron had just told. He just stared as if wanting to fight. His eyes were freaky, the part that should have color was almost totally black. It really stood out.
It also didn't make a lot of sense. After all, if Dorgal had just hired a thug to beat him, he would have gotten someone low rent, not a finely dressed man like this. Why spend extra money on it, when the beating would have the same overall effect anyway? Maybe it was supposed to be a refined thrashing? But if so, shouldn't the fellow be acting a little more polite? The man didn't seem to have any obvious weapons and also didn't look tall enough to be royal, even if he was nearly a foot taller than Tor. About the same size as Trice or Wensa. Then again, all these guys were, or close enough to it that it wouldn't matter in a fight. The three in front of him closed on Tor menacingly, but didn't touch him. Not yet.
“Answer your betters Baker boy, do you have a new girlfriend? A certain accounting instructor? She certainly seems interested in you… Doesn't seem your normal type… A bit girlish and short, don't you think?” He said the words as if they had meaning, but didn't explain what that might be.
Wensa hadn't been a girl in a while and she wasn't overly short for a woman. Nearly as tall as a royal herself.
Tor shrugged. Nothing he said would make any difference now. Once bullies started like this they wouldn't stop until someone made them or they got tired. He sighed and shook his head.
“Dorgal… I only wish she just wanted to be my girlfriend. Instead… No, wait here.” Without warning he turned to the dining hall door and popped his head in. “You'll love this, just give me a second.” He spoke quickly, not really knowing what he was doing.
“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, voice sounding 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
