Tor had them put the plates on the bottom of the chest while he took his clothing off, hoping to narrow his profile a smidgen more, except for the new underwear that Rolph had provided, which he kept for modesty's sake. Not that it would stay on when he crawled down, but for now at least no one would point or stare. A shame to climb into a pit like that wearing the nice silky material, a lavender color, the nicest piece of clothing he'd ever actually owned, since they'd been an outright gift not just loaned to him like the other clothes had been. Oh well. He was tempted to take them off anyway, but there were all those women watching and it would be rude to force them to see his naked body. Bad enough so much flesh showed already.
When the chest was rigged up with all four copper floats on the bottom and the rope tied to it securely, Tor took a deep breath.
“I need this tied to my foot. The left one. I may need the right later...” He smiled when he said it, a grim feeling deep in his mind, touching his soul. They really had to hurry. The lines of force were dipping around the edge of the pit, he thought.
A well had packed and solid walls in general. A cave-in took your water away, so you made sure that didn't happen if you were smart. You put in supports or lined with stone. Probably doubly so in a dry area like this. A cave-in to a cesspit just broadened the mouth and covered the waste for you. No one reinforced them particularly. Worse, as they dried over the years they became fragile and could collapse under their own weight. That was probably what had happened here. The brown earth above hadn't been covered; no boards or planks for safety, so the hole the boy was in probably hadn't been dug at all. It had just been filled a long time before and forgotten about, until the kid fell in and started crying for help.
One of the sturdy men, an older guy in a light tan canvas workman's outfit, came over and tied his foot off, almost taking out the circulation.
“Boy,” he whispered, close enough that Tor could feel the moisture of his breath on his right cheek. “Any looser and it won't support what I think you're going to try, but hurry. More than ten, fifteen minutes, and you risk losing the foot.”
Tor nodded that he understood, realizing that to most of these people it probably looked like they were sending one mostly naked little boy in after the other. Close enough. He looked around and found that all the guard actually had flying rigs. He saw the captain and waved him over.
“Your best man? The steadiest I mean... The... the one that will follow my orders for this? Even if it seems ridiculous listening to someone like me?” It was a lot to ask of a grown man, following his orders, but Tor knew they didn't have a lot of time for arguments either. It was why he couldn't ask one of his friends to do it. That and the fact that the whole thing could go incredibly wrong. If he died, Tor didn't want any of them to carry that with them, did he? At least some stranger wouldn't feel like they lost a friend.
The fellow in charge looked around and waved a man who looked to be near fifty over and just pointed at Tor, not explaining anything. Good. This must be the right man if that was all the information he needed.
“OK. The floats on the bottom of the trunk will do the lifting. Tap them with your hand piece before you take off, they'll follow you. When you're in the air give me slack until I tie the boy off. Then take it up slowly as I try to get him out. If it collapses... well, I'm going to get a shield on him and me, so if that happens try to pull us up as hard as possible as soon as you notice it. If it does go... just pull. I, uh, may scream if you do... That doesn't mean stop. Got it?” He didn't want to sound weak, but if he started squealing like a baby the man had to know what to do.
“Got it.” The man sounded confident at least. His weathered face and hard eyes under the white and black hair was reassuring.
Tor found himself dangling within half a minute, carrying a coil of rope in his right hand. He was lowered carefully, but quickly enough. The hole didn't smell like much, thank god, the dried human waste like dust, mainly. It was gross when it got in his mouth. It only tasted like dirt but he tried to ignore it, knowing what it really was and crawled as best he could into the hole the boy had fallen down. It took a long time, it felt like, several minutes passing, his foot going cold and then numb as he struggled to fit. Even his shoulders were too big for the second turn, one that took the boy down about another five feet. He made them fit anyway, a tiny inch at a time, skin ripping as he forced his way down, gasping shallowly, not able to take a full breath because of the pressure on his chest.
Great, the walls weren't strong enough to hold, but they could strip him bare of skin? How the heck did that work? Hardly fair. He would have yelled that at the walls, but didn't have enough air for it. The old waste stung when it touched blood and flesh, almost like salt in a wound.
The boy really wasn't too far down, about ten feet, but around a bend that hid him from view from the top. Tor lowered the rope and started working it around the boy's middle, under his arms. It didn't take long and there were, thankfully, no problems.
When the kid was tied off, he started crying, loud.
“It's alright, I've got you. No problem.... Here,” he slipped one of the two shields he had on over his head and worked it on to the boy, then activated it for him. The walls around the small boy pushed away a bit. It was the part of the new design to keep the wearer from being strangled too easily.
He called out then, for the man up top to start taking up slack. He scrambled back as well as he could, both of them inching up, his foot aching at the ankle from the rope.
Just as they started back around the first corner, he saw her.
A girl, tiny, maybe three or four, about two feet further down than the boy had been. Just as he noticed her the rope dragging up the uneven tunnel started a collapse and the line pulled harder in response.
“No, wait!” He called out. It sounded pained, because it hurt, but that wasn't why he was screaming. The girl! She'd be buried in a few seconds.
He pulled off his shield amulet and threw it down the hole, praying it hit. Praying that the field would cover her and not just bounce off. He hadn't built it for this, but didn't have anything else. The girl screamed at first, then her voice went almost silent and he and the boy were surrounded by darkness, in desperation he tried to do what he'd seen Rolph do. Generate a field, an organized sense of movement, of interlocking connectedness, between himself and the tiny child. Old shit rammed into his mouth and flesh tore and stretched at his ankle, in a screaming instant something there snapped. He almost passed out, but he couldn't. He couldn't let go.
There wasn't time for it.
Suddenly light surrounded him and the man above started to lower them to the ground.
“Go higher!” He screamed. If the man lifted them into the air, maybe he could use the connection to the girl to get her free. It came out as a weak gasp as the man settled them to the ground. Others came and surrounded them, pulling them both away from the imploding edge of the pit.
No.
It was not going to happen this way.
Tor extended his right hand and remembered the field he'd made at the beach, moving water from one place to another. He built one now, similar, but for something heavier. Dirt. It would have to be stronger. Much so. Dirt didn't flow well.
And it would have to be now. It wasn't possible of course, not for someone like him, but there was no choice. Not if the girl was going to live.
He firmed his voice as much as he could.
“Move.” His voice was flat, all emotion gone. Anger coursed through him, surrounded him in an instant. Rage. It was odd, being so angry at dirt, at the unfairness of it all, but it was what he felt, stupid or not. He said the word again, gasping softly, trying to yell.
“Move.”
No one did until Rolph screamed at them to run. It wasn't the manliest sound to ever come out of the large Prince's mouth, but people scrambled away fast, which was all that really mattered to Tor.
Then a fountain of earth moved, crashing through the air, a cloud of dust and things best left buried where they were, came up like a water fountain and finally, clutching a shiny piece of metal in a chubby little fist, the girl. She rolled end over end through the air for a second, crying. Then she connected with the ground and held in place as if stuck with glue or nailed down.
She was sobbing, a high pitched squeal.
Thank god.
That meant she was alive.
He dropped the field that he could barely hold and rolled over, gasping for breath. Tor couldn't breathe, fire ran through his left leg, and muddy blood dripped down his arms and chest. But he could hear crying.
The boy joined the girl in his sobs. Tor closed his eyes and smiled. For the first time in his life, other than at the birth of a child, it was a joyous sound. He nodded to himself, feeling a bit of moisture in his own eyes. Probably just trying to get the grit out.
Yeah, he really did probably have something in his eyes. The laugh that came out didn't make a sound, his lungs burned too much for that and he couldn't breathe through his nose at all, clogged with shit. He could pretend it was dirt. That was fine, right? He just lay there, crying and sobbing like a baby, but not because he felt sad. It must have been a hilarious picture to all the brawny workmen standing around, and the tough as nails guardsmen too.
He didn't care.
Tor didn't even care that he'd been left naked and bare on the ground, pink and bawling.
The world went black then. He wondered if he'd still be crying when he woke back up?
Chapter nine
Tor woke up aching and sore in places he definitely didn't expect to be, but it made sense when he thought about where the falling clods of dirt had to impact. Dangling by one leg, being pulled around upside down like that. Ouch. Well, he probably wasn't ever going to have children anyway at the rate he'd been going with women. So no big loss. It did smart though; he could have done without that part. His skin felt burnt and sore too and of course his leg was just in agony. But he wasn't crying. Heh.
He knew he was tougher than that.
Well, more accurately, he wanted to be tougher than that. He didn't know if he was or not. Hadn't at least.
The room he was in was nice, at least as fine as the one he'd been given in the guest house, but looked different. Older. More stone work by far and a bed large enough for his whole family to sleep in. He looked over towards the right edge and saw that it wasn't really true. He was in the center and the bed's edge was only about four feet away. Still, the biggest bed he'd ever seen.
No one else was in the room, it was dark inside. Not black by any means, but the deep brown wood and deep blue curtains blocking out the light through the window didn't leave him a lot to see by. It was daytime at least. Hopefully the same day, because he didn't have enough time to get everything done if he missed more than one or two.
Tor scooted to the edge of the bed and started to swing his feet out, noticing that his legs had been covered with loose pants that were made of soft white silk-like material, his left leg wrapped in a thick splint that felt like metal pieces on either side when he touched it. It ached still, but it was attached, so they hadn't had to amputate it. Good. He'd worried about that a little he realized. Being the one foot guy would have been annoying to say the least. Kind of lopsided. Survivable though.
He realized he was acting grumpy in his head, the pain getting to him a little. He chuckled and found himself laughing after a few seconds. Only he would jump head first into a cesspit. It would probably be the big joke when he got back to school. First things first though, he needed to get something to drink, water by preference, go to the restroom and then find some plates for the drought relief project and get to work.
Standing he noticed that the shirt he wore was loose and white as well. It felt nice against his skin. Soft and smooth. The room was cool, but not cold, even though he didn't have an amulet on. Looking around he noticed that one of the room cooling plates hung on the far wall. He could see why they called them that here, but the heating properties would save a lot more lives in a harsh winter.