“We have two problems here gentlemen, neither of which your bickering has addressed at all. First we need to see that Ursala here is not abused in this case. Second, we need to see her married to a suitable individual within the month. Start naming candidates. Now please.”
Ursala's father went quiet at least, but the younger Count decided to take the opportunity to cast aspersions on the lady again. Tor watched as Rolph went from red to white, and stood stiffly, turning to face the Count, his eyes looking a little dead. As he did sparks started to manifest around him, an aura of power. Trice slapped at her chest.
“Damn, I don't have my shield on!” She pulled back, scampering with almost everyone in the room towards the other side. The Royal Guard suddenly appeared in the room, looking deadly in their black and purple, heavy cloth that had to be uncomfortable, but that didn't look too different from what Tor had on at the moment himself. They all just stood around though, once they realized what was about to happen.
Rolph flipped the table out of the way with a casual gesture, not touching it at all. It left Tor sitting in his chair with no table in front of him, the only one left. Everyone else had the sense to get out of the way of the rampaging royal. Except him and Count Ward, who was looking at least as enraged as the Prince. Pulling out his shield amulet Tor activated it carefully and then tucked it back into his shirt. That way it wouldn't flop around if he got hit. It shouldn't anyway, but better to be sure of it.
He stood slowly and walked between the two men then just stood in place. As if sharing a single thought, both men pointed both hands at each other. Nothing happened until Rolph moved two steps to the left, causing a single chair to flip towards the Count. It stopped when it hit Tor's shield, his right hand extended to keep it from flying past. The way the chair flew… It seemed familiar somehow. As both men ran towards each other, with him in the middle he suddenly got it. The force moved in a line, the energy inside the field being organized so that it all suddenly wanted to move in one direction! If they'd kept dropping more chairs into the field, they all would have flown too. It was like the flying field in effect. Only totally backwards in how the mechanism worked.
Chairs got caught in it and flew along the path set up in advance, which was different than how he had people flying, which held a single object in place relative to the field, the field giving the instructions moving along with it… It made sense! If he could set up a path, the ocean water could be sent along like a stream or a river. If he filtered it as it flowed into the line the water would all be fresh. It would take massive work, but it could be done. Tor thought so anyway. If building the fields in the first place didn't kill him. But hey, everyone died eventually, so wasn't it worth a chance?
As he stood the Count rushed him from behind and started pounding on him, causing the floor beneath him to make massive popping sounds. Rolph didn't hit him at least, moving around to strike at the other man. As a blow moved to hit home against the Count, Tor stepped into the path of it, distracted by the project at hand.
Then after about five minutes he realized that the real project at hand, Ursala's problem, wasn't being attended to at all. They were just wasting time on that one for sure. He looked around and finally saw the clutch of people standing by the door.
“Hey, anyone have any male relatives of, or at least near, marrying age that could be passed off as noble enough for Ursala?” Tor asked, his voice slightly abstract and distant as he tried to figure out how many devices he'd need per mile to carry enough water to make the whole thing work. Hundreds at least. Or did he? God. Making that many field copies would take forever. Weeks or more. Maybe they could hire the work done, as long as he got the initial template up? That was generally the hard part, coming up with a field that could be copied and passed to other plates or crystals. That many plates would be dangerous though. What if someone moved one by mistake? An unending flood of water popping out of the line… He needed to find some other way.
No one said anything for a bit, but finally Ursala's mother called out a name.
“Howard Turnbull?” She said, getting a groan from the room after a few moments.
Even the two men that stood hitting at each other stopped then. Rolph stood back and after a few seconds Count Ward did too. Both looked baffled for a second, then realized what must have happened. Well Rolph did. Ward stood there looking confused until Maria gently explained things to him. The girl wasn't rough with the man, but clearly led him more than the Count realized. That probably explained a lot about why the Count had been so cruel towards Ursala.
After all, he already couldn't marry the girl and no one was even suggesting that. No one had even said he should pay her money for the child or anything. The worst he should feel was embarrassed about how he'd misbehaved, but instead he'd reacted as if wronged somehow. If Maria was behind directing him that much…
Looking down Tor noticed that the stone under his feet had been cracked in a circle around him. A small path of lines followed the path he'd walked. Like the line of a river, shooting off into smaller streams moving outward. Like he'd need to do in order to water crops. Well, to get water to the crops. The farmers would have to control the actual watering. He'd helped in the garden at home, they all had, but that wasn't large scale farming at all. That part should be left to the pros he decided.
He stood staring at the floor for a minute, until a man in a Royal Guard uniform came and shook his arm gently, not really touching him, because his shield was still on. “Sir? Are you alright sir?”
“Oh! Sorry, yes, just thinking about something. Where were we? Howard Turnbull? Who's that?” The cracks didn't move or change so he looked up at Marigold and smiled.
Howard Turnbull, it turned out was everyone's idiot relative, a joke of sorts, not an actual person. It meant that one in the family tree that people hid away on isolated country estates. In this case, it could mean a sham marriage to someone that didn't exist. They would, in short, invent a person no one else had ever met for Ursala to marry.
The Queen nodded, obviously seeing something that Tor missed.
“Yes… Then in a couple years, he has a “horrible accident” leaving Ursala a widow, free to remarry without social stigma. It could work. Not ideal, but…”
No one was really happy about it, but everyone agreed it would be better than waiting and letting the child be born out of wedlock. Even Count Ward agreed with the idea, though Maria sat very still and looked angry for some reason. That there was no real father seemed to matter less than what other people thought.
Who was going to play with the child though? Or teach him how to hunt and fish? Or if it was a girl, fend off inappropriate suitors? Tor held his tongue. Maybe they could find someone in time still. There had to be someone that would work, didn't there?
The Royal Guard evaporated as quickly as they appeared, leaving everyone else to hash out the details. Tor didn't want to run off, in case he was needed to stand in front of insane nobles bent on killing each other again, but he really wanted to sleep now. The day had just been too much for him to take easily.
Another two hours passed before they had a plan that everyone agreed with. Ursala would marry a man named Baron Hyrees, since that title stood empty, then in a year he'd “die” and she could turn and marry Rolph as she was supposed to have done. The child would be cared for and yet never in the line of succession. He or she would even get the Baron's title when “Hyrees” died, even though it wasn't landed. Better than Ursala being publicly disgraced, if just barely.