Lord of the Sky (The Young Ancients: Timon) (39 page)

When he drifted off, which happened several times, he woke covered in sweat and screaming, or at least calling out. It left him feeling scared and weak, but at least Trice didn't come to see what was wrong. That probably had more to do with the fact that the walls stopped sound, more than her hating him for what he'd done. Who he was.

The dawn was late. That had to do with the fact that all his windows pointed west, and the city wall was far enough away that the reflected light from it wasn't a big issue. Getting up he made himself shower, and then went to see about making some food. They still had supplies in the new craft, so he was able to make some pancakes and eggs for them. He even had warm honey to go with it. When Trice finally came down the stairs he expected her to be like she was before, but she smiled and walked quickly across the room, kissing him on the lips lightly.

"Good morning! You made food? My favorite. Are we eating in the dining room?" There was a slightly hurried, almost manic sense to the words, her face extra bright and cheery too, as if trying to ignore the murder that had taken place just a few hours before, really hard. It was better than yelling or crying, so he nodded.

"That's what the room is for. I'll get it set up."

It took a bit, but it had been put not too far from the kitchen, for ease of use and while too big for the two of them, the table could only sit about twenty. The space was big, but not cavernous. They could change that if they ever had a major party, so it made sense not to waste the space now. In all, the house was big enough for about fifty people to live there, which meant they'd need to hire some people, no doubt.

"Hey... getting house servants, that's your job isn't it?" Timon passed the bowl of scrambled eggs to her, smiling as he did it.

"In general, yes. I have a real job too, but I
think
I can manage that. If not I'll get Aunt Connie to help. She's really good at that kind of thing. Collette isn't bad either, but if you can get the Queen on your side, you get a better quality of spy for your coin."

They ate for a bit, the only sound being the tap of silver against ceramic. They had juice to go with it, but it was a simple meal. Good enough for him, but not company. He realized that when the front bell rang just as they were finishing. Timon didn't know who to expect at all, but figured that it would be a salesman, or someone looking for work. Possible an industrious thief or bandit, come to see if they had guards ready to protect them.

When he pulled the front door open, it wasn't either of those things.

No, it was Tor.

"Timon! I was told I could find you here. I just wanted to apologize for not being a bit warmer at the wedding. It took me a bit by surprise, and I'm afraid I didn't act very mature about it all. I got Sherri Bonner to watch the shop for me so I could come down. Brought those new space craft you wanted?" He held out a small box, one that was made of black focus stone and had simple geometric carvings on the side. It was well done. It also felt heavy when it was handed off. Like a brick or stone.

"Oh, good. I'll see that the needed people get them. Count Peterson, Judith Press and Aunt Orange." He moved to let his older brother in and noted that he was taller now, even more than a few days before. Not vastly so, but he was pushing five-nine at least. He looked young, like a noble fourteen year old, rather than a commoner of the same age, but he was dressed in a rather plain brown canvas outfit that would have been perfect to go off to school in.

As soon as the door shut, Timon reached out with his intent and held his brother's shield off, then hit him in the back of the head with the box. It made a rather satisfying hollow thunk. He didn't press the attack, since that would be overkill. His brother was already laying on the floor after all.

"You made changes to me Tor. So that I'd feel
guilty
for things. Did you remember that I'd just been tortured a few months ago? Or that I held back those healing amulets for all those people? I had to kill three people last night... Or really, I didn't
have
to, I just couldn't come up with anything else to do, distracted by these new feelings. They might have lived, if you'd just left me alone and not forced your will on me." Timon didn't move toward him at all, just waiting for his brother to start moving again. His head was bleeding on the back and it was bad enough that it was leaving a small puddle of red on the floor.

After a while he groaned, an inarticulate thing that sounded pained. That was nice to hear, Timon realized, since he hadn't been certain that anything would ever get through to his brother without negative stimuli to back it up.

"Wha' the he' S'Timon!" It was said first in home tongue, then Noram standard when Trice came in and squeaked, but held her ground, not running at the downed man with a healing amulet or anything.

Timon smiled at her, not really feeling anything at all at the moment. Not even anger.

"I was just asking Tor about his bit of unauthorized manipulation of my pattern and mentioned some of what happened. Do you think I should mention the part about it being a bit like another kind of rape now? Or would that be too much?"

It was tempting to hit him again, but it made more sense to wait. Starting a fight with Tor wouldn't end well, for
Timon
, and he knew it. If he wanted to do something like that he should have followed up with some serious damage in the moments after the first blow had landed.

His wife just looked conflicted then. Like she wanted to help Tor, but knew that her loyalty was supposed to be to him now. It was more than Timon had thought would happen that way. By a good bit.

That meant it took a while for Tor to sit up, and when he did he held his head, the bleeding finally slowing a bit.

"Damn it, Tim. That
hurt
."

There was no apologizing, not for what he'd actually done.

Timon sighed and hefted the heavy box again. The corners were rounded, so that meant he'd hit his brother really hard, in order to tear the skin open.

"I don't suppose you have anything to say for yourself?"

"Yeah, I do. I
had
to try and fix you. If I didn't you'd have become worse over time. You might still, but once the full effects of the new pattern take, you'll be able to really feel, like a regular person. It will help you."

"Help me? I feel horrible, I told you that I didn't want this, what the heck do you think you're doing? Are you trying to get me to kill myself or something?"

The whole thing would have had more impact, with a bit of extra percussion, but Tor actually looked guilty enough to almost make it worth holding back, just to see the expression on his face.

"I... Look, Timon, I didn't mean to hurt you. It's just that Doris had created you and Tiera to be ultimately violent, in case it was needed, to fix what's wrong in Noram. It isn't your fault, but you shouldn't have been made that way. I know it's hard for you right now, but it was the only way I could get you a real chance at survival. I tried to ask, but you weren't interested and I didn't feel like I had time to talk you around to my way of thinking on it. In this case I'm right and you simply aren't capable of seeing it that way. So I cheated and changed you while you slept."

Which explained it, sort of, but didn't actually do anything about it.

"Well, you did it
wrong
. It's horrible and I need you to change me back. Just as soon as you heal up. Do you remember what to do? How long will it take?"

"Timon... I
can't
. You have to understand that I did this not just for your own good, but for the rest of the world as well. Otherwise too many would have ended up dead."

"Ah, you mean you won't undo the harm you've done, because you have some kind of mental handicap that makes it so you can't see it as damage? That isn't a good enough answer. You messed up and you have to fix it. Now. This
isn't
debate. If you don't fix it, return me to normal, right now..." It was the kind of thing that people said when they wanted to get their way, but for once Tor shook his head.

Totally ignoring what he was trying to get him to do.

"
No
. I told you, Doris made you to be something that the world can't handle. She didn't think that I could do the job, being too nice and too much like Green. I have a plan. I'm changing myself, you and Tiera, so that we can get Noram out of this mess in time. I need your help, but you have to be a real person. If you kept on like you were, then, sooner or later, you'd have become something evil, just because you didn't care what happened to people. I don't know if I can explain it any more clearly to you. It probably won't be a comfortable thing for you, for a while, getting used to things, but it's..."

Timon looked at his brother, shaking and feeling cold inside. There wasn't a lot he could do about it, but he was almost certain that it was actually warm enough around him. His temperature amulet would keep him that way, which meant that this was something coming from inside him.

"Fine, I'll do it myself then." No one knew how, expect Tor, but he'd figure something out.

"You'll probably die if you do. You're going to be a very good builder someday Tim. You already are, really. But you can't make changes to yourself and think that it's safe."

"You did it. I know you're better than I am, but I can learn. Do you really think I can't?"

His brother shook his head.

"It isn't that. I just... don't want you to accidentally kill yourself."

"Ah. Maybe you should have thought of that before you interfered with the most basic parts of my
self
? You violated me. You violated my trust in you, and now what you did is torturing me. If you won't help, then get out. I don't need you as a brother if you're going to do things like this against my will."

Tor didn't move for a long time, as if he were ignoring what Timon had said.

"I can't undo it. It will be for the best, in the long run. You'll see." Then he stood there. That was all, just looking at Tim expectantly. They were family after all, which meant that they had to forgive each other, at least in Tor's mind.

"I see now. Get out. Never come back. Never talk to me again, or ask anything of me. You aren't my brother any longer. Go!" He nearly threw the box of space craft amulets back at him, but refrained from such behavior, if with a bit of effort. He did turn to Trice and took a deep breath.

"You can go with him, if you want. I'll talk to the King again, and get him to set the marriage aside." It would be better for her anyway. Tor loved her, and she him. They could even
be
together. It made more sense than her staying there, didn't it?

Tor tilted his head and shook it at the same time, then held it for a bit, when he realized that it hurt too much for that kind of thing still.

"Tim... Don't you think you're over reacting a bit?"

He stopped and thought about it, but after a bit fixed his brother with a look that would have pinned more self-aware people in place, unmoving. It even sort of worked on Tor.

"No. No one has a right to change what other people are. That's so deeply true that even the most evil of people follow it. You can kill me, or leave me alone to fend for myself, but you aren't allowed to change what I
am
.
Who
I am. That's what you did, and what you're still doing. I deserve a chance to be myself, without you making me into a copy of you. A slave. I'm not going to be that and if I have to die to prevent it, then I
will
. Now leave. Understand this too, you brought this on yourself. This, whatever comes, is what
you
chose to happen."

He didn't point at the door, but did get ready to tell him to get out of his house.

Tor left on his own, leaving Trice standing there, tears in her eyes again.

"Really, you don't have to stay. I'll be fine. Go to him. I'll take care of the rest of it. That, or just leave Noram. This is beyond what I can put up with anymore."

"Timon, don't send me away.
Please
." A single line of wetness ran down her left cheek. "I... Just don't. I need to be here for now." She looked miserable, standing there, like it had all been too much for her for a long time and now she thought the world was finally coming to an end. It wasn't. That would have been too perfect to be true.

No, it would keep on going, and keep getting worse, until there was no place left to go but up.

"Don't worry. I'll fix it for you." He wasn't mad at her at all, but he
was
angry now, mainly at Tor. There was no stomping as he left and no slammed doors. Instead Timon just went out the front and put out his Fast Craft, the old one that Tor had made. It was his, actually. What Timon had made wasn't as fast, but it would do well enough. He could send the rest back to him now and be done with him.

For the moment it was the fastest way to get into the King's Palace. It skipped the front gate entirely, for instance. Then he could talk to the man himself and get him to see that he needed to be out of the situation he was in. King Richard would understand, he hoped. If that didn't work, well, he could go and live in Vagus. Then he just wouldn't come back for a few hundred years and Trice could live her life however she wanted. It would be the same for her that way, right? As long as he wasn't there, she'd be free to do whatever she wanted, without him being in the way.