high.
There wasn’t a good place to land near one of the gates, so they used a central courtyard area. One that as they descended seemed to be nearly as big as the whole school campus, which meant his sense of scale had been way off as to how big the place must be. Youch. It was a lot closer to the Capital in size then, if with a lot fewer people about. The cobblestones were flattened on the top, an almost polished looking shine that meant a cutter had been used on them at some point and then weather and years of walking feet had dinged them up a little. They were pretty, marble or something that reminded him a little of a gem, sitting in the mortar. Impressive and expensive to use as paving material.
The scent in the air, cinnamon, clove, and anise seed all mixed together hit him as they touched down. Some kind of sweet confection? To let his nose lead towards an outdoor stand that seemed to be serving something that looked like festival food. Maybe they had a big King’s week celebration here? People certainly looked happy enough. Rolph smiled and headed over to the stand, coming back a few minutes later with a small tray that held four giant sized rolls, each bigger than both of Tor’s hands put together and smothered in rich looking white frosting.
They sat on the edge of a fountain near the center of the space, sitting on the edge of the pool. It had a statue of a man in the center, but Tor didn’t bother looking at it other than to note it was there. After all, he’d never had a festival cake like this before and he wanted to analyze it. The anise seed was the principle flavoring, though otherwise it was a cinnamon roll like he’d learned to make as a child. It had a sugary caramel on the bottom, which meant that they hadn’t stinted on the filling for it. The frosting was too much, and he had to covertly scrape most of it off onto the serving tray. It was good, very much so, he just didn’t want to make himself sick on the sweetness of it. Just the little he’d gotten was pushing it already. He smiled and leaned in to Trice gently, bumping her arm with his shoulder.
“A little strong on the licorice flavor, but other than that these aren’t bad. Is this an annual thing, do you think? For King’s week?”
“I don’t know… If it is these people certainly have a love of Uncle Richard. It looks like they have jugglers and singers coming out over there… We probably need to be going soon, but…”
Rolph winked.
“Hey, we can stay for a bit, an hour or so anyway. After all, we’re making really good time thanks to the new flying rigs. I don’t want to leave the luggage just sitting, but…”
Just then a group of people, all dressed in finery and looking more than a little nervous, walked over to where they sat. At first Tor wondered if the festival was supposed to be a private thing. If it was they could leave of course. He didn’t want to mess up their tradition or whatever. The man in front, a slightly older man with blond hair and eyebrows with a square jaw that made him look important, wore three different colors of mustard yellow. The shirt was a little poufy but had a good solid looking workman’s vest over it. The covering made sense for this time of year. It wasn’t cold out, most likely, not that Tor could tell, but it wasn’t the heat of summer anymore either.
The man smiled and bowed to everyone.
“Hello! I’m Baron second Ferdinand Gala. Thank you all for coming to join us for our celebration! We weren’t expecting any important guests, but everyone is welcome…” The man seemed to run out of things to say, allowing an older woman that looked vaguely familiar to Tor to step forward.
She wasn’t pretty, a little broad faced and slightly hard lived, but her smile grew wide making her face seem alive. Light blue eyes glinting over her own red outfit that, other than the color, looked a lot like what the Baron second Gala wore, except that the vest was a tasteful brown, which worked well with the almost burgundy colored shirt under it.
She bowed towards Rolph and held it. It was a long enough action that everyone else followed suit after about ten seconds, eyes going wide.
“Prince Alphonse! So good to see you.” The woman announced this, Tor realized, as more of a warning to anyone in earshot about who was there than anything else. Clever of her, and something he should remember just in case a similar situation ever came up in the future.
The woman then bowed to Trice, who had stood when Rolph had. No one seemed upset, but it was probably a good idea to meet strangers on their feet, so Tor stood up as well when Sara did. He got ready to slap his shield on just in case, but tried not to look like a spas about it. So far these people had seemed polite enough.
“Baronetta Morgan?” The woman hazarded, her voice a little tentative.
“Ducherina Morgan, but please, call me Patricia.”
The woman went wide eyed and bowed again. It was well done on Trice’s part, since she’d have been in her rights to chew the woman out over getting her title wrong. That she’d treated the whole thing casually made her look good he knew. It would have to him at least, if he’d been the one making the mistake.
“Thank you… Patricia.”
Sara grinned and moved forward to give the woman a small hug.
“Aunt Betty! This is my aunt, well second aunt really. She leads Debri house in Galasia. So, that must be where we are.” Sara chuckled and stood back so that she could be introduced.
“This is Sara Debri, daughter of Heather Debri and the woman that personally arranged for Tor to make the miracle that saved the city!” Aunt Betty yelled this rather loudly, her voice sounding joyful enough to Tor. It was kind of true, in that Sara had passed the message to him herself and explained what was needed, plus he’d done it because she was his friend and asked. He nodded a little. Yeah, it was fair.
The crowd had grown a bit while the introductions were being made and a large cheer went up, almost making Tor trigger the shield for real. People surged forward to try and touch her, as if her good deeds would give them luck or maybe just trying to cop a feel if the look on some of the men’s faces could be interpreted by someone like him. After a half minute both he and Rolph started laughing and slapping at hands a little, forming an impromptu honor guard of sorts around their pretty blond friend.
Ferdinand smiled and stuck his hand out towards Tor, indicating that he got that the smaller man was probably some country guy. Tor took the hand easily and shook, leaning in from a distance as was appropriate.
“Don’t want to forget anyone. May I ask who you are sir?” The tone was polite and interested, kind even.
“Oh, me? Torrance Baker. I’m just the guy that helps with the luggage and whatever little projects come up.” He waved his hand towards the boxes behind them. It was literally the truth after all. He’d even nailed the plates to all the chests himself earlier.
The Baron second smiled and patted him on the back as the crowed started chanting Sara’s name.
Chapter four
In all it took nearly two hours to get Sara back from the crowd, and another three for everyone in the town to feel satisfied that they had done everything in their power to make sure she knew how grateful they all were to her. Singers came forth and sang several songs in which she featured prominently, which made her blush prettily and hide her face in her hands. The singers weren’t all that good, some hit more than a couple flat notes and the words made it clear that the writers hadn’t been professionals at all.
It was heartfelt and touching for all that. Tor felt tears coming to his eyes a few times when the songs spoke of how they were nearly dead, how people had laid in the street suffering and even those not made ill were dying of thirst as they struggled to care for those that simply wouldn’t make it. He hadn’t known how bad it had been. When a group of school kids acted the whole thing out, he had to hide his face from the crowd, so that no one would see how soft he really was.
Crying at a children’s play? After a few minutes he noticed that he wasn’t the only one. Ferdinand used a handkerchief to dry his own tears and caught Tor noticing the action, his own eyes tearing a bit at the time. He smiled a little, sadly, and went back to watching the play.
Then the scene changed to a dark cave, in the wilderness most likely, but you could only see the inside, a rough place that looked well constructed enough that you really kind of felt like it was a cave in truth, not just a painted backdrop. Someone had put some real effort in, making it three dimensional and everything.
A tall blond girl, who might have been twelve or so entered the cave, fighting her way through several trials
