Box, whose real name was Darren Smalls of Copperton, something Tor had never known at all, didn't want to admit to being a killer. No one blamed him. Not at all. The problem however, was one that Smythe, Trice and even Rolph, who'd come to talk to the man and try to get cooperation, didn't get at all.
It was fear.
Well, they could all see that, but it wasn't fear for his own life, not in this. Box knew he was dead. If he didn't talk, the nobles would kill him, but only him. If he admitted to anything, his family could be blamed for any aid they'd given him. Including food and shelter. Or in Debbie's case, work. So instead he just shut up and stopped talking almost immediately.
He may be an evil being, worse than a mere killer, a monster that did things to the girls he'd killed that… Tor didn't really want to know about it. He sat wearing a Truth amulet, with three people intimidating people haranguing him, which wasn't going to work, Tor knew. After about an hour of this Tor had all he needed. It was so clear in the man’s field that he might as well have spoken.
Still, that didn't do a lot for the families of the dead, did it?
No, they needed him to talk.
Tor left the room and held up his right hand, not knowing if it would work for him, but this was the palace after all. He took a deep breath.
“Odd request. Would someone please request the King come here? He's needed. Personally, I think only he can resolve this situation.” Then Tor stood and waited. Nothing happened for ten minutes, then, just as he was about to go and search the complex for the man himself, he rounded the corner, with nearly twenty Royal Guard, weapons out and looking ready to fight.
“Tor?” Rich sounded cautious, but ready to do his part. Physically it looked like, since he had an explosive weapon out and ready to activate, thumb hovering over the sigil. It was one of the smaller ones he'd made, but not shielded for indoor work.
“I need for you to do something, if we want this resolved for real.” He explained the situation, getting a strained look from the King. Then he sighed and stepped forward.
“Very well. It's honorable enough, I suppose.”
Tor led them into the room, a situation that made half the Royal Guard look like they were going to kick his ass personally later, taking turns, which was ridiculous. As beat up as he was at the moment he'd never last that long. Rolph froze and his face suddenly went… sly. He at least got that something was going on. He bowed to the King, a low thing that was totally outside of protocol. Quick studies that they were, Trice and Smythe followed along so smoothly the whole thing looked planned. Tor did it too, even though he'd come in with the man.
“Darren Smalls?” The King walked in front of the chair that Box was chained too.
“I'm Richard Cordes. Master Builder Tor has been reading you during the investigation and has found you to be guilty of the murders of several young girls. He also tells me that you have worries that your family will be harmed if you speak and admit your crimes. Is this so?” He spoke evenly, regally.
Box folded within moments. It was hard not too when the King of the entire land looked you in the eye. It was kind of the point.
“Yes… Sire.” The voice wasn't humble, not friendly either, which was closer to the man’s norm. It was just blank. Defeated.
“We are prepared to offer our protection to those of your family innocent of wrong doing. That is to say, if they did not aid you directly and knowingly in the commission of these crimes or commit murder themselves, they will not be harmed in any way. This is contingent on your full cooperation and a public statement, under truth oath. Wearing that amulet, so that people will know what you've said is fully honest. Otherwise, I cannot help you. Choose wisely.” Then the man simply stepped back and didn't say any more, just waiting for Box to speak.
“All… OK. What do you want to know?” He said softly, looking at the King first, but finally at Tor.
“Just the truth Box, whatever that is.” Tor made his voice gentle, even though he felt… sick. Betrayed.
Then he felt worse as the words came out. It wasn't just seven girls, there had been more that had gone unnoticed, some of them children from the city, all girls. Most commoners, street walkers and urchins too poor for the city guard to take note of, being there to mainly protect the rich after all. Box laughed darkly at that when he explained how it all worked.
It was true enough of course, Tor knew, but the nobles didn't seem to see it at all. It didn't matter at the moment, but later they'd have to discuss the reality of not being over tall and wealthy in the kingdom of Noram. It was an error for the King not to know that. Worse, from the look on his face, Rolph didn't really seem to get the idea either.
Box had to give his tale a dozen times, once for each of the families of the murdered girls, if they could find them, and once before the council of Counts. The worst one was when he had to speak in front of Debbie. Tor had thought it horrible when the Coltress family and the Wards had been there, fearing that they'd just slaughter the man on the spot. They didn't though.
They weren't, as a group, evil people, but they raged in this. Tor didn’t blame them. Carol was the worst though. Where the others, the Baron, and oddly enough Petra, who had come to show support for the family, seemed ready to kill the monster in front of them, and even screamed at him for being so evil, Carol just sat.
Coldly.
Waves of anger coming off of her. She felt nearly as despicable as Box did, to Tor at least. It was clear she wanted revenge. Understandable even. Who wouldn’t? But it wasn’t Box that she wanted to punish.
It was the Baron.
Again.
She took off after the King so harshly that six Royal Guard in the room actually pulled their weapons and pointed them at her. She laughed at them.
“Oh, isn’t that the way then?” She hissed the words, a low sound suddenly, after the yelling she’d done just moments before, leaving a void in the room. It got everyone’s attention. Even Box’s and he’d been largely just looking at the wall, if not in shame for his acts, then to avoid inflaming anyone’s passions.
The Baroness spun on Richard and took two steps closer as if to strike him. The giant didn’t move. He also didn’t sneer or make any kind of facial expression at all. Like the nobles all did when they suspected someone was about to go into combat rage.
“You.” She poked a finger at his chest, which stopped dead in the air. She didn’t care, just doing it again as George moved in behind her, obviously ready to fight her in the King’s place if it came to that. “This is all your fault. You let that man rape my little girl. Now you protect this one from honest justice! His family can’t be touched? Make all the decrees you want, you bastard, you can’t stop me. I have friends over this entire land and we’ll…” She went silent, panting and turned her rage away from the monarch.
Onto Debbie.
Only Carol didn’t bother yelling at the already cowed and silent women. Instead she… smiled.
“Fine then.” Her face looked suddenly triumphant as she glared at the woman in front of her, as she watched the tears flowing down the light tan cheeks.
“Fine then. We can’t touch this beasts family for his crimes as is proper? Perhaps, but you didn’t give them protection from right of closure, did you?”
Tor had no clue what that meant, but apparently everyone else did. Even Box and Debbie. Both of them gasped and so, oddly, did the Baron. Petra looked down and the King’s jaw clenched hard. Rolph took a deep breath and stared at Tor, probably understanding that he didn’t get it.
“She means to force Debbie to kill him.” His giant friend said, dressed all in black. They all were. Even Debbie. Not Box. He was in a light tan prisoners shift with no trousers, naked legs showed below the knees, pale and covered with dark strands of hair.
Oh.
Tor had heard of that. It was an old costume, meant to force a person’s family to pay for things like this, if they couldn’t properly be gone to war with. It was a noble thing though. Debbie wasn’t one. Before he could point that out, the King tried, getting Carol to simply laugh at him.
“What then? She isn’t a noble? Why, you’ve promoted her to that state yourself, didn’t you? When you made her untouchable for her family’s crimes. Or are you simply denying me justice? Is that your plan? Rob Ginger of any proper retribution?” The smile didn’t waiver, it wasn’t a real smile though, so Tor didn’t expect it too. Carol had just thought that she’d won.
So it seemed, did almost everyone else. Two things happened then, almost at the same time. First, without giving her a chance to even dry her tears, Carol moved and grabbed Debbie, pushing her towards her own brother.
“Kill him, or I’ll throw this entire fucking kingdom into war, you evil bitch.”
Debbie flinched and kept her hands at her side.
At the same time, the King… looked away.
“It… is within the traditional rights of the wronged family.”
Tor got it then. Carol was going to fan the flames of a rebellion over this, if she didn’t get her way. The King couldn’t openly be seen to refuse her justice and the laws and traditions said that this could be called for. His hands were tied.
“No.” Tor heard the voice, and for half a second wondered if it was his own, as raw and distant as it sounded. It was what he was about to say, wasn’t it?
It was the Baron.
“Justice is not served by harming innocence. Not ever. I’ll do it myself.”
It was a noble idea, one that seemed fair to everyone. Even Box just nodded, looking at the man.
“Use a knife and you can make me suffer more.” He said softly. No one really heard it but Tor for some reason. Probably because Carol started screaming about then.
It was an epic thing, one that went on for hours. She insulted everyone in the room for something or another, including the Royal Guards, who didn’t seem to care, the King who she seemed to be threatening with total war and her own family, each in turn. In the end, worn down, the King ordered Debbie to just do it.
“It saddens me that it comes to this. I’d save you from it if it were within my power. Perhaps we could call for the father or…”
That got screaming again. Carol slapped Debbie in the face. Or tried too. She seemed shocked when her hand didn’t make contact.
“Why does this commoner have a shield? That’s forbidden to anyone not of the noble class! That’s proof of criminal wrong doing right there. Seize her!”
Debbie didn’t move, and neither did anyone else. No one wanted to say anything, because it would start another ranting tirade. Finally, it was, of all people, Maria who spoke.
“She’s a friend of Lord Baker’s mother. If he gives a person a shield as a gift, it’s allowed them under law, regardless of station. I understand your anger in this, but harming this woman’s heart won’t bring Ginger back. It won’t even make you feel better. Just let father do it. Or… or I’ll do it in her stead. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I’m sure it would harm me nearly as much as her.” The words were blunt, but smooth, soft in nature. Wheedling.
“No.” Debbie spoke, tears still streaming down her face. “He’s my brother. I’ll do it. I won’t make anyone else…” The sobbing stopped the words, the shaking giving lie to the bravery of them.
Slowly the Baron walked to her, looking half crushed as his eyes sought hers. In his hand he had a long thin piece of silver, half an inch thick and eight inches long. Tor didn’t have to sense it to know what it was. The man slowly put it in Debbie’s right hand.
“It's got a three foot sweep on it. I'm sorry to make you do this. I…” It was clear he was about to volunteer to do it himself again, or to ask for an executioner to come in, something, the man had tears in his eyes and shook slightly.
He was a good man that way, but Carol started screaming. Or at least talking loudly.
“Don't. If you let her off of this, I swear I'll have you killed. I don't care if I have to swing myself. He killed by baby. They have to pay!” Her tone got more and more tense, angrier, almost incoherent.
It wasn’t a threat of war though. She was into personal retribution, trickery. Threats. Tor started shaking himself. He had to do it, didn’t he? Even if it meant going to war. Debbie was his friend. There was only two ways to end this now and one of them was to make his friend kill her own brother.
That wasn’t a real option, not to him. Besides, this was his fault too, wasn’t it? If he’d only checked more closely, done something more, earlier, Ginger and the other girls might be alive. Voices in his head chanted at him, all with different advice. He blocked them out.
“Do it.” Box growled. “A cutters a kinder fate than most. Just hit the sigil and-” he never finished the statement. His head just slid to the floor.
Debbie jumped back, dropping the cutter in her hand, even though she'd never activated it at all. Tor looked down at the device in his own hand, the white stone with its eight glowing sigils on it, his thumb still on it. He hadn't even realized that he'd moved.
Oops.
He slowly put the device away in the little pouch at his side, and looked at the Baron.
“Does that resolve this to your satisfaction? Dead is dead. Darren Smalls will never harm another girl. I consider both you and Debbie as family. I’d prefer to avoid war over this.” His eyes were dead, he knew, as he stared at the man, but instead of anger, the Baron bowed to him.
“Thank you. I… lost my courage in my anger and nearly compounded the problem, thank you for saving my honor.” He swallowed, but no one asked what he meant. That was clear. To everyone except Carol, who had to be held back by Collette and Petra. She screamed at him in truth then, it started with a sound of pure rage, animal anger that seemed to strip away the thin coat of humanity the woman had left. Then she threatened his death a dozen times. As everyone looked on, she went a step further and promised it.
That was going to be an issue he knew.
Still, it was better that way. Even if she hired the Guild to take him out later. Or sent her Barony’s forces after him.
It would have been worse by far to turn the innocent Debbie into a murder as punishment for being related to a bad man. Tor was already a killer, so the stain on his soul would hardly show now, not from this. Box…
Tor misted up and didn't bother to hide the fact that he was. This whole situation was awful. The headless body still bled, a red seeping now, the blood had splattered all of them, at least the ones standing close. People just stood though, not knowing what to do next. Tor knew.
Now it was time to mourn. Even for someone evil and crazy, there would be sadness. Most of it was for all the girls he’d killed though. Tor was shaking slightly, sore and stiff still. It was all too much, wasn’t it?
He bowed to the King, then to Connie, and gestured for Karina and Rolph to come with him. Varley hadn't been at the execution, thankfully. She was young, and just had a baby. Her time should be spent on life, not slaughter. He was shaking, true, but not with cold, or even fear. He didn't know what it was, but that didn't stop it from happening. He stopped and looked down at the floor.
“Um, I don't mean this in a threatening way…. but there will be no retaliation against Debbie or the Smalls family. If I hear of such, well, it won't be pleasant, will it? Debbie, please come with us now. And… Maria, Marvin, would you as well?” It was a request, but it would make his begging easier, if they were there for it, wouldn't it?
They looked shocked by it, but came along as if commanded by the King himself. Everyone else cleared the room as Tor went outside and cycled his clothing until it was clean, then touching her shoulder, he did the same for Debbie. No one else had been as close to the spray. She had blood on her face, a streak of it, still red and just starting to harden. He probably did too. It would serve for the moment.
Death shouldn't be pretty. Tears fell then, from almost everyone.
As they landed Tor looked at the Wards, before the door was even open on the carriage, just sitting, looking at them for a while.
“I'd like to relocate Debbie and her concern to Ward. Would she have your protection if that were to happen? From Carol I mean? There will be retribution for this, but I don’t want it to touch Debbie.” Him making commands or not in the execution chamber, it was a valid question. He didn't think they'd go after her themselves, but that was different than being marked as someone to personally protect.
Marvin nodded once, “Yes. Though I don't think anyone of Ward would harm her over this situation. Do you suspect treachery?”
“I expect that people, some of them, will be very angry and hurt for a long time and without anyone to blame, may look for the adjacent target. If she stayed here, unprotected, I don't think it would be… good.” He felt so tired. So sad.
It wasn't fair. But it was less fair to everyone else than him, so he couldn't even complain, could he? Instead he just waited, amazed as Maria moved in and hugged Debbie.
“Don't worry Debbie. You're with us now. No one will hurt or blame you. We'll make arrangements for your family to come as well. None of this was your fault.” Her voice was fierce, protective.
That got a snort from Trice who was at the controls still. Tor didn't drive them, being too worn down. Crashing wouldn't have helped them at all after all. His friend… Tor had to stop there, they were all his friends, weren't they? Trice smiled, but looked a little sad and nodded.
“Tor has the right of this. We need to send you with a guard for a while too. At least while you pack up to move. Who should we get?” Her voice was a little too knowing for Tor.
Checking her field it was clear that she was starting to suspect something was up with Kolb and his people. Still, part of that made sense didn't it?
“Her friends, Trice… Like Davie and Haver, their people. Maybe Kara from the palace and some of her buddies?” That should skew the count enough, he figured, adding Royal Guards to the mix.
Trice just shrugged.
“I'll see who I can scrounge up. Karina, give me a hand?” She asked and gave the girl a glance.
“No. I'm staying with Debbie. For now at least. She's my friend. I can't abandon her. Rolph, will you see to it?”
“On it.”
It was enough. No one doubted that Rolph would get things done. No one sane. The giant red-head climbed out, clothing shifting to a fine and official suit of clothing, a dark purple jacket that looked nearly black, with shining gold button on it. Royal crest on the heart. He didn't get five steps toward the door before people started bowing. He just stood for a second and then gave an almost imperceptible bow back.
That would kind of end the idea of people not knowing who he was at school, wouldn't it? Half the kids standing there were just gaping. Sam didn't, he just walked over and looked at the outfit Rolph wore and straightened a bit.
“Need help?” He said succinctly. Really it was an incredibly rude way to address the Prince, but Tor decided to talk to him about protocol stuff later. He was doing at least as well Tor would have at his age after all. The Prince nodded.
“Instructor Kolb? That or his people?” Then he waited.
Sam spun, but instead of taking off to look, like Tor would have, he called out.
“Instructor Kolb, anyone know where to find him?” It took a few minutes, but a runner was sent and when Tor looked back, Sam was out of his student Browns and into a nice set of velvet and silk black clothes, ones that looked like with Tor had worn the other day, but with a single purple stripe down the leg. Guide and Sandra both ran up, dressed in identical outfits. A uniform then? Well, that worked for him. Lyn and Weasel came out a few minutes later too, looked around and both changed to match. It suddenly looked very official, didn’t it? The clothing devices were just dead handy that way.
Tor just sat for a second, a little blankly, then he smiled at them and gestured Sandra closer, since they'd all just been standing themselves. Looking guilty. Probably for promoting themselves to his assistants without asking.
Ah well. Worked for him.
“Builder Morris, please set up a protection detail for Miss Smalls here. There is a real chance of problems, Instructor Kolb and some of his students will be coming soon, but until then, we do it.”
“Yes sir!” She didn't salute, just turning and waving people into place. They had force lances in their hands within seconds.
Heh, except Guide, who was holding an explosive weapon. A strong one. It was close to what Tor had built, but wasn't a copy. Not exactly. It was a novel build. Well then. He had a right to carry it, by law if that was the case, didn’t he?
“If we come under attack, try to take them alive. If overwhelming force is presented, Guide will cover the retreat along with me.” It was ridiculous of course, but good enough practice. He had explosive weapons on him too and got his multi-weapon out. Anyone looking for a spot of revenge would have a fight on their hands.
One they probably wouldn’t survive.
As it was they looked intimidating enough that Kolb, Baron Haver and Petra Ward all walked over slowly, Rolph behind them, since they didn't recognize any of the short uniformed people with weapons out. The all held their hands away from their bodies.
Tor waved them in, it probably looked high handed, but he was still sitting in the carriage and didn't intend to stand until he had to. He explained it all quickly enough and waved a little towards Marvin.
“So the Wards are hosting her in Warden, her family too, once we clear them. I'd like a real protective detail to go with her, we can buy her a house, or send her with one.” He turned to the Count to explain. “I'm not trying to send spies in. If I want to know something I'll just use the communications device and ask. But these people won't let anything bad happen. Is that alright with you?” It might not be, Tor knew. But sending Baron Haver as a spy was… funny. Yep, that's what it would be. The idea of him hiding in the bushes trying to listen to secrets…
Not that he couldn't do it if need arose, but he didn't look the part at all.
“That would be fine. We don't have much crime there, so the security forces are a little light. I don't think that Miss Smalls will have any trouble, as I mentioned. I'll introduce her to Martya, so she can quickly establish her new business.” He sounded kind enough about it.
Debbie was still crying softly, but she spoke then. Tor expected her to complain about him sending her away, which he understood. It was high handed and bossy of him. He hadn't even asked, but he also didn't think she could make a good decision at the moment on the matter.
And shouldn't have to. If not that, then she'd probably take him to task for talking like she wasn't there. He hated that himself so got ready to take whatever she had to say.
“Who's Martya?”
Except that, he froze for a second, how did he explain that she was an ex-whore from Warden? Petra solved that for him.
She was so great.
“She runs the ice manufactory there and is branching out with Collette Coltress across the kingdom with them. It's a good business. I'm investing what funds I have in it.” She shrugged. “Martya's really nice, you'll like her. Maybe I can take you around? She was my best friend when we were little.”
Tor shook his head, but with a smile.
“Um, no? I have a request of you Pet. It's kind of important, and it means you'll be busy for a few weeks, possibly longer. All the Austran spies that turned themselves in need to get home and I was kind of hoping you'd lend your ship and captaincy skills? They shouldn't be a problem, they just need a ride. It's a matter of honor that they arrive both safe and treated well. The King agreed to those terms and I'm in charge of overseeing that part of things.” He tried to make it clear but she was already agreeing.
“Sure. I love sailing. When do we leave and who's going with?” She sounded pretty happy about it, enough so that Kolb gave her a look.
Petra got it, the day was truly a dark one, wasn’t it? She made a bit of a face, but addressed the man directly.
“Oh, come on, how often do I get to play ship’s Captain like this?”
Tor agreed himself. That's why he'd asked, plus she had that huge boat. Two big boats actually. It would mean he didn’t have to have a new one made. He could read fields now, if he was careful, but that didn’t mean real building was an option for him. It wouldn’t be for a bit. This was easier. Besides, it would mean he could have his friend with him.
“I'm going with you, but will probably be leaving from Austra. I don't know who else will be with us, other than the spies… Lyn?” He looked out the door at her and she nodded back, not turning around to look. She was still on guard duty after all.
“Weasel too then most likely. Maybe my mother and little sister, Uncle Dan and maybe Denno Brown and Count Lairdgren.”
Sam snorted a little but it was Sandra that spoke, looking at him only briefly, then back to the security zone she was supposed to be covering.
“I get why your family might be going, if you are, but why Lyn, she's one of us.” Her voice was certain of that at least.
So it was. Tor shrugged.
“That's true. She's also the Ancient of Vagus. Red. We have a meeting to get to there in a week or so. That said, good point, if Petra will have a bunch of ner'do-well builders on her crew, you should all sign up. You might actually be useful, when you aren't washing dishes and all that. This is serious work though, not a game. So the dishes need to get really clean each time.”
None of them said anything after that at least, since good guards didn't chatter too much. It was distracting and made it too likely you'd be attacked. They moved inside a little awkwardly, the kids all pretending to be Royal Guards, checking the doorway first and Guide holding the rear, as they all got in. Kolb watched them closely as they “worked”. When they got to the quiet room, which was pretty secure, he stopped them at the door, and ripped into them like he would if his own people had screwed up that much.
“I counted sixteen separate points of attack left unguarded. We will now go over all of them. Haver, the door please?” He kept speaking, not sharply, but with decent volume as it got shut. Lyn was in the room with them, which got a funny look from Ward.
“So, another Ancient? Collecting a set, Tor?”
“Looks like.”
“Ah.” The giant winked. “I would have suggested something more portable, given your penchant for travel. Still, most of them aren't overly big…” It was a joke, but Lyn turned on him and crossed her arms suddenly.
“Oh?” Then without moving her body at all, she started to stretch, and grow. It kept going on for nearly a minute, with her ending up an incredibly thin, rather horrible looking creature, almost like a pale walking skeleton. Her fingers ended in black talons, and veins stuck out of her face, blue and sharp looking.
Tor just nodded, not acting surprised at all. He yawned, which was a real thing, as tired as he was. “Yeah, she'll fit in the luggage better the other way.”
Count Ward just chuckled, sounding almost sincere about it. Instead of horribly panicked. Then no one had said he was a coward, just that he was too pretty, and slept with a lot of women. Maria looked a little scared suddenly. So Tor waved at Lyn and spoke softly.
“It's still just her Maria, don't worry, she's nice, no matter what she looks like. It's… her way.” At least he hoped so. If he was wrong this could get messy.
Lyn spoke softly, if a deep, gasping growl got to count that way. Her voice was low now too, more so than the Counts, which was pure base. A grumble that sounded like thunder at a distance. Scary. Tor grinned up at her a bit sadly.
Lyn bowed though, her clothing looking funny on the oversized thing she’d become.
“Yes Countess. It is only the outer form that changes. If I don't do it often enough, I start to ache though. There has not been much chance these last months. I didn’t want to frighten my roommate. One moment.” The shift back reduced her in size in about the same time frame, but left her looking older. Wiser too. And a bit less attractive, because she'd been using her disguise amulet as make-up and it suddenly didn't work on her at all. The colors were all wrong and things didn’t line up correctly, wrinkles in the way as they were.
Then she shifted down in age, looking like herself again and prettier for it.
Debbie gibbered a little and Maria wrapped her in an embrace, letting her bury her head in a shoulder. She started to glare at Lyn, but the Ancient just shook her head and walked towards the women slowly.
“Sorry there, I guess that was a little abrupt. I'd forgotten the day. Please forgive me?” Her words were shy, very timid almost. Maria sighed and held her other arm out for a hug.
It was a bizarre scene all the way around.
“So, I think that we should all go again, don't you Alphonse?” Karina spoke suddenly, trying to distract everyone, Tor figured.
The Prince shook his head firmly.
“I… No. Neither of us can go to Austra right now. Even if the government is in agreement with a peace treaty, the people might act out of love for their lost leader and his daughter. I'm sure most of them didn't know them, which could lead to mistakes, and the idea of killing an enemy leaders children is rather fresh in mind.” He smiled charmingly, “not that Daria didn't deserve it. But we should probably let things die down a bit before going for tea and a chat.”
Sitting near Maria, and her brother, Petra stretched and stood up.
“Um, not to be pushy, but who's paying for provisions?” She glanced around as if it wasn't directed at Tor personally. It was a really good point though. Technically the kingdom should, but Denno had asked that he personally be responsible for his people. That they were, at least mainly, literally Denno's spies, even if they didn't know it, just made sense to Tor.
Who else had thousands of years to get things in place?
So that made them Brown’s to watch over and that, no matter how unlikely it still seemed, meant it was a family matter for Tor.
It took work to stand, still stiff, but he managed it with a small groan. Then, slowly he walked towards the door. It was less than fun and he needed to get into bed soon, regardless of the time. He'd been up all night and so had Rolph and Karina. Blinking he realized that everyone in the room, except Lyn, had probably been up all that time too.
It was going to be a long week.
Possibly a long life.
“Come with me. We need Collette, gold, and then some rest.” Lots and lots of rest.
They weren't going to get it.
Tor knew that with a certainty he hadn't felt about anything in a long time.
“In two days we head to Austra.”
From there on to the summit of the Ancients. Because, no doubt, that was going to be fun. Tor didn't shake his head. Really he couldn't. It was too heavy at the moment and Daria Serge whispered in his ear, distracting him from his own thoughts. He could feel the hot, fetid breath against the side of his face. It stank of rot already, even though the girls head was supposed to be frozen, waiting for them to come and check on.
“Ask yourself this Tor, who do you think is trying to kill you? Someone clearly is. It isn’t me or daddy either…” She intoned, a sound that was heard by the ear, but not a real sound at all. Just a projection of his own mind.
He didn't know. Who'd bother?
That got a laugh when he thought it. Several. Box added his voice to the noise as well. It was an odd thing, considering and almost friendly. Then the man didn’t have a lot of reason to be mad at him for the killing. Not like the others.
“Who? Have you looked around lately Tor? Half your “friends” would probably sell you out for a box of gold, or even just the knowledge that you won't be bothering them come next Noram day. Every Ancient might be against you for reasons you can’t begin to imagine, and even your own family might just do it, just to keep you out of the way. You tend to meddle you know. It's annoying. Thanks for killing me and not letting them force Debbie though. That was good, but it proves the point, doesn’t it? You poke into things you shouldn’t. Oh, you have good reasons, sure, but it still makes people angry. More than you know. To a lot of people you just go from place to place pushing everyone else around and showing off. Magic castles and giving out magic and golds as if they were free. There is such a thing as being too nice you know. People are selfish and petty and when you don’t show them you are too, they’ll change the meaning behind what you do to make it seem like that. They can’t live with themselves otherwise.”
Tor blinked.
Not because the voices were being mean, that was kind of expected and he got the idea. Really, they were being nicer than he’d thought they would, Except Baron Rochester, who he just ignored. Even dead the man was an ass, just standing in the background and making threats, calling names and generally spewing hate.
It was just that he wasn't totally sure they were wrong.
That… wasn't a good thing.
Not at all.
Because in less than ten days, Tor was going to be standing with all the Ancients in the world, and really, if anyone was plotting against him in secret like he suspected, if he hadn’t just gone insane from all the death he’d created, he’d probably find the answer there.
The sad thing though, he knew without having to really consider it, was that he very well might have actually gone insane.
Daria laughed in his ear again.
“Might have?” She said, her voice fading away. Then, one by one all the other ghosts did too.
The stench of death didn’t though. This wasn’t really over, he knew. In fact, he wasn’t sure, but it wouldn’t surprise him to find out it had only just begun.