Tor tried to snort in derision, but it came out sounding more like he was choking on his own saliva. Then he actually did, which got Rolph to pound him on the back for a minute while he recovered. Smooth.
“Sorry, where was I? Oh, yeah, that was supposed to be a sign of derision. As in to say, “don't be stupid.” Stopping that is what the device here is for. Obviously. What did you people think I was doing? Get me clothes and a Not-flyer? My new one I think? We'll go get her out of her room and then get to work on those murders, if Smythe hasn't already handled that? Two months, so…”
No one answered, which couldn't be good. They did both run to get his amulets, which were just sitting outside the door. Rolph explained that originally Tor's shield had been on and no one could get near him for days, since he was spraying combat aura so hard that half the palace had to be cleared. When that finally ended the Prince had managed to turn the shield off, after a day’s worth of trying, focusing from a distance, so they took all the amulets to keep that from happening again.
“Really, we had too, we just didn't know what all you had on, three amulets, but all of them had at least ten sigils and…” The red haired giant shrugged.
Hence the nakedness. Right. Tor grinned.
“Yeah, a bit of a flaw there. Anyway…” Triggering the Not-flyer Tor lifted gently, until he hung upright in the air, four inches above the ground, toes pointed down slightly. On this latest version of it, he didn't need a hand control at all, which was useful. It took focus to make it work, but not that much. He'd made it on vacation, kind of on a whim. Really, he could use the same field for flying rigs now too. The needed controls were almost the same. As an added benefit, this one would let him move up higher or float closer to the ground if he wanted.
“Not to be high handed, but if one of you could lead me to Trice please? I know, asking the King or Prince to take me around like errand boys… Still, it will speed things up a bit, yes?”
They walked quickly the other two stretching their long legs through the twists and turns of stone and wood corridors, coming to a small door that looked about six foot high. Tor would have thought it was the wood room for the fireplaces or something, not a place to keep a Ducherina. That turned out to be the case actually, which made him blink. Some kind of self-punishment?
Rolph knocked on the door loudly.
“Trice? Tor is awake! He's here, come out or we're breaking the door down finally and pulling you out. That means a repair bill and you know, my allowance has been cut what with the war build-up and all, so what do you say? Come out?” His voice sounded, happy enough at least.
From behind the small brown door the responding voice was petulant.
“Go away! It's not safe. I'll end up hurting someone. I'm a monster! Go away!” A single hard thump came from behind the door, wood on wood if Tor didn't miss it.
Rolph made a rude sound with his tongue.
“Oh stop being a stupid bitch Trice! Tor just spent nearly two months making a special device so that you won't send people into combat rage and his butts covered with bed-sores. He can't walk and hasn't even eaten, the first thing he did was insist on coming here. The least you can do is open the door enough to get your present. It's actually really cool. I'd ask for one just as a decoration. Seriously though, stop being stupid now please? I don't think Tor has the energy to hang around here all day waiting for you to decide you don't hate him or whatever.”
Nothing happened for a second, then a sound of fumbling, a lock or bar on the inside, which made no sense to Tor. Was that so the firewood could have privacy? When the door opened, a fearsome sight peeked out, hair longer than Tor remembered, all brown frizz and curls, just a hint of blond at the tips. The blue eyes were feral and looked half insane.
“I don't hate him, he hates me. Because of you!” A finger pointed at the King, who didn't deny the accusation at all. It was true to an extent, except Tor didn't hate her. Far from it, obviously.
The small and exhausted builder rolled his eyes.
“Like he said, stupid. Not true. Now take the device and let's go get cleaned up. Bed time soon. Food.” The croak was harsh and Tor realized that if they didn't hurry he was just going to fall asleep on the floor.
Rolph practically had to wrestle with Trice to get her to put the thing on and she didn't comment on the little dragon at all, hardly even seeing it. She started to close herself back in the little storage room, but Rich put a hand out.
“No. Enough of that. The danger has been dealt with and all has returned to normal, more or less. We require both of you now. I'll give you both a day to fix yourselves, but no more. It's time to stop goofing off and get back to work now.” The voice was stern and all royal suddenly.
Tor shrugged. Yeah, well building was his job, and Trice was his friend. If the King thought he had anything to do more important than helping her, he was mistaken. The girl came out though, which was a start. Tor managed to reach out and take her hand, the right one, with his left.
“Help me find Ali?” Was all he said. She was his wife and the fact that he hadn't shown concern for her first was telling. Too much so.
Worst husband ever, Tor thought a little sullenly. She probably hated him now, his freaking out and scaring everyone like that. Spewing combat aura for days. Who did that? No one. It wasn't survivable.
Dying would explain how awful he felt at least. Tor tried for a grin, but it didn't come to his face. Instead he just turned and started to float away slowly, Trice shambling along behind him, Rolph and the King next to her talking softly. It was the Prince that suggested they check the guest house for Alissa, since Karina and Tor's wife had set up shop there, so that they could pick Denno's brain for ideas.
“They want to hire the work done, but don't know who to go to for it. The Guild is harder to find than you might think. Not that I blame them, after all, it's a good idea, even if it does take a hundred thousand golds to get it done.”
A soft grunt came from the King.
“I keep wondering when Karina will figure out to ask our… friends about it.”
Tor got it. Their friends were the special army that Kolb ran. Armed with nearly the best magical devices in the world, trained hardened fighters put together to take on the hardest of special projects. This had to count.
Karina was even in the chain of command. If she told them she wanted Daria Glost killed, it would happen.
Tor just nodded.
“Alright. I'll… I need to make some stuff first, so they can do it safely. Get her to stall for a bit?” Tor chuckled at the silence behind him. “Don't worry, it won't take months of work, but darn it, I'm building up a bit first. Working from school for a while, so get people ready.” Unless it wasn't there or something.
Rolph took a deep breath. “Um, Tor…”
“Uh, yeah?” It sounded like he didn't know who he was for a second. That was silly though. It nearly made him want to laugh.
The giant red-head continued, his voice sounding worried, “I don't think you can pass this year. Neither of us can, we missed too much.”
Trice whimpered, like him not getting good grades would be some big deal.
“So? There's the building group to get with there and our friends. I have a house. Plus I want to get with all of them and Instructor Fines on some group work. I… May not personally be up to getting everything ready in time. We have people for that though now. I think. Maybe.”
They didn't talk about it after that, not for a while. Finally Richard put a large hand on his shoulder. It kind of hurt, even though it was nothing more than a reassuring weight. So, yeah, Tor got that he wasn't ready to do anything too heroic for a bit. He'd stressed his pattern.
Nearly to death.
He didn't mention it though. Because while he intended to claim it was the work he’d done, and that had certainly been part of it, the days of combat rage had probably done most of the damage. Honestly, if he’d been doing anything but sitting at first, probably for weeks, he would have likely died. Trice would freak if she realized how close this had really come. Tor figured that if he tried to make even a simple cutter right then the effort would kill him. He'd just fall apart, for real.
Really, just reading someone too closely for too long might do it.
It had to be done though. Thank god, he'd gotten the work for Trice done and delivered first. Even if he died now, she'd be OK. When they got to the outside door Rolph skipped forward to open it for everyone. The King spoke gently to Tor, as if fearing he might be a bit mentally unstable, which wasn't fair. OK, sure, he'd nearly worked himself to death, but there had been a reason for it.
“So, you're going to live at the school?”
“Um… no.” Tor didn't show anything externally and couldn't really. It was a side effect of the work he'd done, being so deep for so long. Finally he remembered to speak. It took effort.
“Checking in there, then getting with Smythe. I… don't think… I… Well, I promised I'd help.” Saying that he didn't think he'd be able to work building for a while might not go over so well, he realized. As it was Trice was still quietly sobbing.
After a while he spun to look at her. After all, she didn't cry softly, did she? It was odd…
Like something in her had broken.
“Trice is coming with me. Ali and Karina too. Traveling for a bit. Get Trice assigned to the investigation.” It came out as an order.
To the King.
Tor was actually trying to beg, but it just didn't sound like it at all, did it? Gods. Well, hopefully he'd survive the beating to come for insolence.
Rich patted his back again. It hurt, even if not the thrashing he deserved.
“Done. Hear that Patricia? You are, for the duration of this investigation, attached to Smythe of Westend. Both of you need to report to him first thing in the morning. Arrange the rest of your schedule around that.”
They continued walking slowly, floating that way in his case.
Ali was easy to find, she and Karina were sitting in the main dining room of the guest house, maps and papers laid out all over the table, calling things out to Denno, who worked scrubbing the floor with a brush. He actually noticed them first, and looked up with a grin. It was “Greg”, but Tor got it, without checking his field even.
“Little brother! So good to see you. Finished your project then?” He stood up and dropped the brow bristled brush in the sudsy wooden bucket.
“Yep. Sorry it took so long everyone. I blame laziness and intractable slowness in my working skills.”
“Tor!” Ali said it first and ran to him, she stopped in front of him and looked to be about to hug him, but stopped.
“Oh… What… do you need? Food? Water? I…” She didn't wait, turning to Denno.
“Run to the kitchen and get food for him please? Water…” They had a pitcher on the table, and a nice glass with ice in it was handed to him moments later. She brought the whole thing though, cool enough for beads of condensation to start forming on the outside of the glass as he finished the water. She gave him two more, one right after the other. It tasted incredible.
Sweet, even if it was just pure water.
Then he realized that he hadn't checked it for poison. It was a slow realization and he didn't worry about it overly, since it had already probably been checked six times before it got set on the Princesses work table and twice more by the people sitting there. Tor automatically started his own check, just reaching out to the water with his mind.
And passed out.
Ah.
It was the only thing he could think when he came back, being shaken ever so gently by a tense looking wife as everyone else stood around with fear in their eyes. Except Trice who sobbed gently in the back. At first Tor didn't get it, but then looked down to see that his shirt front was covered with blood.
Nose bleed? He touched his face to make sure.
Yep.
Oops.
He blinked and accepted the cloth that Richard handed to him, one that was white and probably wouldn't be used for anything else now, no matter how well they cleaned it. It led him to start into an idea about how to clean fabrics without water. It was basically just like the earth moving equipment, only it would have to include oils and bits of biological material too… He'd even had the idea before, so…
Tor sighed and forced himself to smile, even if he didn't really have the energy.
“I… Hey, could someone takes notes for me?” Tor started speaking about the idea to the room, and without pause, Rich sat down, grabbed a pen and paper and started writing.
It was embarrassing, but he did have nice penmanship, a far nicer hand than Tor really.
When he finished the bleeding had stopped, letting him take the fabric from his face.
“Ah, well… Um.” He didn't know what to say to anyone. They all just watched him, not being useful at all. No one even tried to cover the silence, waiting for him to speak.
Jerks.
He was obviously in distress. The least they could do was help him out with some kind of face saving cover story, right? Tor smiled at that, a genuine if tired thing and winked at Ali, since she, out of the whole room, deserved the truth. But he didn't think Trice could handle it…
That was a lie.
She was strong, even after having been locked in a room by her own hand for months. It was more that Tor didn't want to risk her having an emotional reaction to what he had to say. That was cowardly though.
Darn this being a grown-up anyway, he thought, looking around.
“OK. Well, I…” How did he explain it? He wanted to shake his head and let them all guess, but soldiered on. It had to be done, it was kind of important.
Even he could see that.
Rolph stepped in, looking half freaked and ready to cry himself.
“Tor?”
“Oh… Yeah, so um, I pushed a little harder making that device for Trice than was wise, so I need to back off and act like a real person for a while, instead of a building machine. This,” he gestured at his face, indicating the bleeding that had pretty much stopped, at least for now.
“This was due to me trying to check the water for poison directly, so, you know, that's kind of telling…”
At first everyone just looked at him blankly, not speaking or even shifting too much. Except Trice who started sobbing harder.
“Oh, hush Trice. It isn't that big of a deal, I just need to not doing any building for a while again.” Because, if he did, he'd die. That was all.
They got it.
Well, Ali didn't, but Karina explained it to her pretty well.
“He pushed himself nearly to death. If he does even one more thing right now, anything… I think he'll just die. Can,” She took a breath so long and slow that for a minute it didn't seem like she'd say anything more.
“Will… you survive this? Can you recover?” Her voice sounded dark, gloomier than he'd heard it in months even.
Tor snorted, a far more credible one this time, no nearly choking to death or anything, so an improvement already.
“Yeah. It's like… just pretend I'm sick or something for a bit. No vigorous building or field work for a while and, you know, kind of keep the Tor beatings down for a time. I'll be fine. I just totally mismanaged this build, that was all. I needed to sit my butt down and plan, working slowly on it over a longer time, let it grow organically, not plunge in and play hero.” He shrugged, a motion that seemed weak and pathetic even to him.
“What can I say, I want Trice to like me.” He grinned.
Trice started to punch him.
It was a thing she did.
Bully.
Tor smiled at her sweetly.
“Um, seriously though love, do that and I may actually die right now. Even with a shield on.” That probably wasn't true. Not covered like he was, but…
Yeah, it was a real point. Everyone acted scared for a bit, that or gloomy. Except Ali, who started barking orders like a general.
“Let's get you cleaned and into bed then. Here. Um, Alphonse? Get us a room please. Kari, get one for Trice. King Richard, if you'd help me get them settled? We need them cleaned and in bed. Now.”
Everyone just did what she said.
It was cute.
Tor was led to his regular room there, which no one was staying in anyway, and Trice was just a few down the hall. The tub in the bathing chamber of his room was mostly filled and the water heated to warm. Richard had to help him in, which was embarrassing, but needed. He really couldn't manage it on his own.
The water stung the sores on his backside and legs horribly, but Tor didn't let it show as Ali and the King slowly washed the non-broken parts of his skin. They didn't use soap at first, but Ali finally did, making the wounds in the water burn. It wasn't even real lye soap either, just the lavender goop they used at the palace.
Finally they took him out and patted him dry, letting him float in the air using his Not-flyer, until the water all evaporated.
There was a bustle from the other room, so when Ali decided he was good for it, he got to put on loose and flowing “invalid” clothes, made by the magical amulet around his neck, which looked like silk. All in white. Tor changed the color to deep red as he floated, one half brown almost. It was cheery and would hide any blood that leaked from the wounds.
Ali just smiled, thinking he was being playful and taking it as a good sign. Richard grunted softly, but didn't mention his real thoughts on it openly.
“Steward, bring me my brown trousers.” He muttered instead. An old joke, about facing a battle and hiding the results.
Tor nodded.
“I can't use a healing device right now. So, for the time being, that's pretty much the size of it. On the good side, I don't think I can get an infection of any kind, so no huge thing.” It really wasn't. Sometimes it paid to be a freakish semi-Ancient or whatever the heck he was.
The noise had been Rolph and Denno coming in with food. Trice sat at the table, looking at the plate in front of her, loaded with goodies. It looked and smelled good, but Tor noticed his place had a small bowl of oatmeal. Plain. He sighed, but that really was about the right speed for now. Throwing up would be…
Bad at the moment.
He hovered next to the table instead of sitting. The sores hurt less that way. Plus the table was high enough for it. He could work the spoon on his own, thank goodness, even though Ali looked like she wanted to do it for him. He winked at her and ate, suddenly not feeling hungry at all. He got the food down though.
Denno looked at him floating and shook his head.
“So, that doesn't take energy from you? Not at all?” He waved in a general way at the air under Tor’s feet.
“No… Why?”
“Oh, well, it might be more comfortable for you to sleep using that for a few days then. We used to do that, when we went into space. Just float weightless to sleep. Most relaxing to tell the truth. You don't want to do it forever, because you need to move and get your health back, but for a few days it will let you get real rest.” The look on his face was baffled though, almost like he was humoring Tor.
“Oh, right. You aren't mocking me, you just don't think that this is really magic. Um, seriously, can't you just think of it as a different kind of science? If I have it right it really is, or maybe a technology, but the basic rules really are the same.,”
Denno sighed and shook his head slowly.
“No. I know it's strange, but… I just can't. I've never been able to. Green and I have had this conversation a thousand times, literally, and it's just something I have to accept, I can't see it. I mean, I see you floating there, but I keep secretly looking for wires or a trick. I was programmed not to believe in such things. I never really knew why even. Most of us have something like that though. Personally I think the scientists where just trying to act cool at the time. Show off what they could do.”
Rolph snagged a piece of fruit from Trice's plate, strawberry it looked like and munched for a second.
“Cool? Tor says that sometimes. What does it mean? I always figured it was a Two Bends thing…”
The Ancient shook his head a little.
“No, not at all, I don't believe. It's an old, old word, it translates both into “cold” or possibly chilly, and was used to signify “good” or “pleasant” I'm surprised he knows it…” The man shrugged.
“Or maybe not. Even clones and twins share thoughts and memories at times. Another thing I didn't believe in for a long time, but Burks is Tor. I suppose it almost has to happen, especially if they spend any time together at all.”
The Prince nodded as if that actually made sense, and Tor was about to ask more, but he noticed the Trice wasn't eating. His little bowl was nearly empty, but the only food gone from her plate was what Rolph had taken.
“Trice…” He waved gently at her plate. “Eat something.”
He sounded bored, bland and sleepy. That was pretty accurate so he smiled.
“Because I'm going to sleep soon, whether I want to or not and we need to plan things out tomorrow. So… Do it or I'll…” He really couldn't do anything could he. Even pouting wouldn't work, since he was about to fall asleep at the table, lights on in the room or not.
So he waved at her instead.
“Or I'll make sure you get assigned all the really cruddy jobs from Smythe.”
It was lame, but she forced a smile and took a bite of some kind of green melon. It looked good, but he really couldn't eat any more just then. Instead he floated over to a corner and closed his eyes. It really was comfortable, just floating like that. Hours later, maybe longer, the sun hit him in the eye as it came through the window. He was still tired, exhausted and sore, but felt all right otherwise.
Until he tried to land on his feet. That did not work at all. He stopped the fall by triggering the Not-flyer again though and decided to just try and do what he could for a while, instead of forcing himself into manic levels of work. It was lazy, but…
Yeah.
He really did want to live.
Smiling he went to the bathroom and shaved, which took an hour, and a lot of work. He looked thin in the mirror, haggard and young. Like a slightly funny looking little boy that someone had forgotten to feed for a while. His stomach made a noise that felt far away, sounded like that too. He grinned, at least his body knew what it wanted. Food. He made himself finish cleaning up first and dressed in more loose silk clothing. It didn't look very professional, or adult, but it also didn't rub in any inconvenient places.
Ali wasn't in the bed, but it had clearly been slept in, so Tor floated to the door, hoping to score some food, if possible. Really, it should be, but he knew he might have to go get it himself. It wasn't like there would be servants standing around to wait on him. Really, there simply shouldn't be. He wasn't that important.
It took a second for him to work the door and he heard the urgent, but low, voices coming from in front of his door before he got it open all the way. The scene was funny, in a way. Trice stood behind Marvin Ward, on his countess’s arm, and the giant man whispered to a girl with short hair, a real fighters cut, leaving soft brown fuzz only, who had her hands on her hips and seemed to be about ready to throw down with the man.
“Go away. I heard what you did to him, and if you try it again, I'll… well, I may be your Squire Sir Patricia, but if you think I won't-”
Trice didn't move or say anything, but Maria's eyes went wide when he floated out and the girl stopped talking and looked back at him. She looked familiar, but taller than when they'd last met.
“Tor!” Gemma spun and started to grab him up in a hug, but didn't, turning back to the “threat” at hand.
She was a good Squire after all. Better at it apparently than he'd ever been. Or maybe not, since she was openly defying her Knight to protect him. Oops. Tor patted her on the back, getting her to look at him. She spoke quickly her voice low. Deadly.
Very cute. She was only thirteen. Tor blinked then and nearly shook his head. No, that was wrong, she had to be fourteen now. An adult.
“Run Tor, I'll hold them here.” It wasn't said seriously though, a hint of playfulness coming into her voice.
Good.
Maria sank to her knees and started to go all the way down to the floor, Marvin started to follow, but Tor held his hand out, the left one. The move was weak, but the Count stopped.
“Lets… not. I can't do the whole bowing and scraping thing today, maybe not for a while, and I no doubt owe the larger portion of the apologies all around. Can we just call it good and pretend the whole incident just didn't happen, and you know, um, not wake me up like that anymore please, Maria?”
She stood up, looking lovely, but a little tear streaked and nodded somberly.
“Yes, my lord.” Her voice was incredibly humble, which made Tor raise his eyebrows. He could do that at least. Good to know.
“Stop that. You're a Countess, and I'm not the “lord” of anything.” He gestured to the Count with a smile.
“By the way, um, it would be good if you didn't wake me up that way either Marv. Same goes for you Gemma. I knew you when you were shorter than me after all. It would be too weird.”
The girl grinned and nodded.
“Alright. You didn't mention Sir Patricia though…” The tone was naughty.
Tor mock glared at the side of Gemma's head. Trice just stood in the back and looked at the floor, not even bothering to try and cry, just looked hopeless.
Tor shrugged, “Yeah, well, she's my girlfriend, so the rules are different for her, aren't they?”
For some reason that got a pleased gasp, from Maria. The Count straightened and then bowed his head just a little, a smile on his face at the words. Trice didn't move. Not for a while.
“What? I…” She stopped.
That really was an annoying thing. Tor hated it, people just stopping like that. She what? Didn't like him that way? Wanted to have a duel in the hallway? Thought he smelled like rhubarb? It could be anything, and he wouldn't know, because he couldn't check her field to get at the information.
Finally Maria hugged her, “I knew he was too good a man to let my indiscretion cast to you on the wind love. I can take his scorn, it's no less than I deserve. But I'm so happy for you!”
Tor was confused. He was scorning people? How exactly? OK, he'd kind of flipped like a goon, going all combat rage on a good looking woman for doing things that most men would gladly pay a lot of gold for. There were circumstances though, not the least of which was that he'd been asleep when it happened. If people wanted clear thinking they needed to at least let him wake up before having to make decisions.
Plus, really, by the noble rules, well, he'd been in the wrong…
It hit him then.
He'd been the Doretta, acting like he had. God these stupid rules sucked. Back in Two Bends when you messed up you just had to say “Hey, sorry about that, I was wrong, we all good now?” or something similar. Here it was a big speech, with groveling and abasements. Tor steeled himself and closed his eyes, then slowly sank to the floor. It kind of hurt, his body not ready for it, and everyone took a step back, as if fearing he was passing out or something.
“I… Forgive me Maria. I acted rashly, and without grace. It was not my desire to make you feel scorned or lessened, I just didn't think, caring only for my own concerns at the moment. I cannot expect forgiveness, but please know that I did not wish you harm. If-”
For some reason she started crying when he spoke then. Tor didn't get it, not until she collected herself almost a minute later. Marvin had tears in his eyes too. Trice looked…
Pissed.
“Oh, get up Tor.” She snapped, nearly the way she used to when he was doing something particularly stupid. Like working himself nearly to death.
“We get it, you're perfect and the rest of us aren't. No need to rub it in.”
Tor rose, just by turning the Not-flyer back on and looked at everyone, the Wards had their heads down and Trice looked half ready to hit him… Gemma however just… laughed. Hard. Oh, she buried it behind a fist, face turning red, but it was real enough. After a second, when she didn't stop, he turned to her and shrugged.
“OK, what? Did I mess something up again? I just meant, you know, that I was sorry for hurting her feelings, that's all. I… Gods and little puppies, I don't know the rules yet at all, do I? I really thought getting married would make all this social stuff easier, but so far no joy on that score.” He turned to the Wards and Trice and sighed.
“If I gave offense… you know, if I did, screw it, will you? I know that you're all good people and like to think I am too. I didn't ever want bad feelings between us and we're friends, right? So, you know, “there are no debts between friends”. If I need to do more… Write it out for me or something?”
He was still too tired and weak for all this crud. Marvin stared for a minute, while Trice glared at him, still looking ready to kick his behind, possibly for real and Maria cried, if more softly. She had a knack for loud sobbing, but was keeping things pretty subdued.
Tor sighed.
“Alright, you can all explain what an evil and retarded bumpkin I am while I get something to eat. If I can find anything. I don't know when the closest meal is…”
Gemma did and told them that it was nearly breakfast time, or near enough no one in the kitchen would complain, being about nine already. She led them all to the dining room, the nice green and wood one that Tor liked and ran off to see to having it delivered for everyone. Tor sat across from Trice, the giant Count next to him, but cozily, not the ten feet apart that was supposed to be the tradition. No one ever did that though. Not at the palace. Not even people that might suddenly start killing each other.
The head of the table was left empty, which Tor figured was just due to the fact that none of them was really in charge there, it being the King’s place. That was shown to be wrong though, when both the King and Queen walked into the room shortly after, with his own wife, two Princesses, one who looked ready to give birth right then, a tall and wild looking bearded Count Peterson and Smythe of Westend.
At least Tor was just floating in place, so he didn't have to get up and move his chair. Oddly he got to stay, while everyone else stood and played royal musical chairs, trying to figure out who sat where based on rank and current favor. Really, he figured, he should have been near the far end of the table, in the poison seat, having neglected his duties for as long as he had. Being infirmed seemed to be getting him out of the worst of the trouble though. No one even suggested a beating. Not yet at least. Trice still glared at him and Maria still had moist eyes. Count Ward had recovered though and smiled at him, from his new place, most of the way down the table.
Maria was at the very end, signifying her as the most out of favor personally. Connie had told her to sit there herself, glaring a bit when she did it.
At least he had Ali sitting next to him now. That was a relief. She could explain what had happened maybe? Only, not, of course, during the meal. She smiled a lot though and covertly held his hand under the edge of the table. It was obvious what she did, but no one seemed bothered by it. Connie just looked at him, fear in her eyes, or possibly worry, and smiled a little weakly. Then, he looked horrible didn't he?
The food was good but he couldn't eat a lot yet. He just got full too fast. That would probably take a week or two to regulate back to normal. He felt better already though. People made small talk around him, which he just listened too.
Count Peterson looked at him suddenly and took a deep breath as soon as the last dish was taken off the table and drinks, brown combat rage sludge and for him a tumbler of clean water. It was chill, but not really cold. Good though, when he sipped it.
“So, um, Lord Baker, about the disposition of the Flight School, I was wondering if we could forgo rents on the place? It's for the war after all and it would be a hardship to work out who exactly had to pay for it at this late date.” The man didn't seem humble about it really, but he also didn't seem like he was kidding, it took a few blinks for Tor’s mind to catch up.
Right, he had the use of the Wildlands, didn't he. The flight school was there, as well as his old house. Still, Lord Baker? Tor smiled and shook his head, making the man scowl a little.
“Um, sure, there's obviously no rent on the land, as long as improvements are made I mean. I have some growing projects coming up, so if some of the men could help with that? Planting some seeds and arranging water flows. They could combine it with flight practice maybe? I don't want to take up all their time or anything, but if anyone is willing to help, that would be good. Kind of part of why I get the land.”
The wild looking man let his eyes go wide for a second, and smiled.
“That's more than fair. Honestly the men have been getting a little lazy to tell the truth. We have a few sections deployed, but most of the time they’re just practicing now. This is the most boring war I ever heard of. Get with me on what is required and we'll make it happen.” As an afterthought the man bowed his head a little and smiled. “Lord Baker.”
Tor shook his head again, which got Varley to giggle behind her hand.
“Oh! No one mentioned that to you?” She looked at the King, who gave her a look, one that clearly said “shut up” but then he smiled.
“No dear, I haven't brought it up yet. Things aren't settled and it seemed unwise to dump anything more on his shoulders at the moment.”
Tor tilted his head.
“Um, what? You know that just saying that and then not telling me is mean right? What's the joke? Did you name me “Lord of Children's Entertainers” or something like that? If so, I'm totally out of my depth. I guess I can get up to speed. Do they even have a guild?” He mugged a little, getting a soft titter from the group as a whole. For a second Tor wondered if they really had. Well, as long as he didn't have to rip his field apart, or do more than suggest that the capering and merry making looked good that day, he'd deal.
The King smiled.
“Counselor of Magics. It's a new position, but one that seems needed with all the new devices coming on the market.” For some reason he didn't seem to be kidding.
The room murmured at him then, “Lord Baker.”
Ah. So not a joke? Goody, more work. Well, as long as it was mainly him nodding his head and telling people good job…
The King continued then looking not at him, but Smythe.
“For now however, both Baker and Morgan are assigned to you Counselor Smythe. For the current investigation. Other than those duties, both are to rest. You have the resources of the kingdom to assure that.”
Smythe didn't smile, “Yes, Sire.”
Then he turned to the others and nodded. “After this discussion we meet.”
A simple enough command. Tor answered, amiably enough. Trice grunted softly, still glaring at Tor as if he'd beaten her puppy. Had he somehow? Maria was her girlfriend and if she thought he was trying to be mean to her, that would do it. Still, how would that work given what he'd said? Had he really gotten something that wrong? Maria still looked miserable. Hugely so. How had an apology caused that?
Blinking Tor realized that that Ali, sitting next to him, was shaking his arm gently. He glanced at her as she spoke, her gaze going across the table.
Karina looked at him expectantly, as if she'd just asked a question. Tor shook his head, making her face fall. Gah. This was all so hard.
“Sorry, what? I was thinking and didn't hear that.”
“I asked if I can go with you back to Lairdgren, just to visit?”
“Oh… Well, yeah, I don't know when that will be, and it has to be OK'd by Veren and George, as well as your parents of course, but they already kind of said yes, but, I mean, I have the room and can get you back at need. Should work. Better, I'll just give you a fast carriage and you can take care of that yourself.” It wasn't a perfect plan, because she might try and use it to go after Daria, but as long as she agreed not to and go with using the professionals for that instead, it was a good idea. Really, they should all have them. Tor sighed. Well, he wasn't making them, was he?
No.
The Lairdgren group was. He nodded.
“So, I'll get those down for all of you as soon as possible.”
No one said anything about it, probably thinking, rightfully so, that “as soon as possible” meant months, or years. He let them. It would be a good project for the kids at school, wouldn't it?
After everyone largely left, he floated along with Trice and the older white haired Counselor to his plain, nearly austere, chambers. When they got there he sat Trice down and indicated a good place for Tor to hover.
“The case has stalled. Right now we're in the portion where we desperately grasp at straws and admit to ourselves that without another attack, we simply have nothing to go on. I have the interview playbacks, which both of you should go over. Maybe one of you will find something I missed? Other than that, I simply don't have use for you yet. Until then, I think that it would serve well enough for you both to go to Lairdgren and take care of matters there.” He spread both hands, a thing which got Trice's attention, and some raised eyebrows, but no comment.
“If you could make certain you're both reachable within, say, a days notice? I know that would normally be impossible, but given everything…”
“We can do that. I'll see to it.” Tor said more firmly than he thought he could really manage. Good, but odd.
Smythe rose and ushered them out with a fatherly wave.
“Good. I'm not truly certain why I've been, honored, with having both of you as assistants, but right now I'd take a diseased donkey if it would help. I truly dislike this kind of investigation. Every day I fail to find the killer, it's a chance another innocent dies.” He seemed really sad about it, but Tor understood. He held his right hand out to the man, which he took, if awkwardly.
“Each day we fail. We will find them and stop them. Whatever the cost.” He sounded bold when he said it. Stupidly so.
“Whatever the cost.” Trice added softly, almost crying again.
Smythe just bowed, a little, towards them both.