Looking from one man to the other Tor tilted his head quizzically. Why would they be yelling, and almost fighting, over thieves? Surely neither one of them was the thief. After a few seconds Tor decided this was simply a fact. If that were the case then they wouldn’t be yelling at each other, they’d have fought physically, and Godfrey would be dead already, no matter which side of the matter he was on, right or wrong.
So it wasn’t that.
Holding up his right hand a little Tor spoke softly, trying not to trigger either man into violence. Neither was going into combat rage, but that didn’t mean no one would get hurt if they got into it. Probably him when he got between them. Luckily his shield was on, just in case that happened.
“What was stolen, do we know who took it, and why?”
He really didn’t want to make too big of a deal over people lifting something or another if he could help it. At Wilderness Station there was an awful lot of expensive gear just lying around for instance. What would someone like Sorlee have done if she thought the family farm was going to be lost and didn’t have a convenient Tor to step in for them? Or more to the point, if someone didn’t realize they had him to help them out? Anyone could have asked and he’d do what he could, but did they know that? They might be tempted to say, lift a water heater or maybe take a compressor unit and sell it. Who could blame them?
Well… the military could. They publicly beat people for that kind of thing, Tor had heard, though so far no one had been at his house yet. He kind of wanted to keep it that way.
“They stole our cooks! Also fifty good men with building gear and four of our transports! It was the military!” Kolb didn’t shout, but the tone was aggressive and directed at Godfrey who clenched his jaw and right fist so hard it turned red and white.
“Ah! Well, Kolb… the cooks and all, and the military men, those are kind of their people. It’s inconvenient for us, true, but that’s not really theft. Now the transports are ours, or more to the point they belong personally to me and Godfrey as co-owners, not the military at all, so I’m sure those were only borrowed and whoever did it fully intends to return them. It would have been nice if they’d asked first. Unless… Did they Godfrey? Perfectly fine for you to lend them after all.”
It turns out that they hadn’t. The flight school, under orders from Count Peterson their commander, had “borrowed” the fifty workers to build new structures, along with their gear. They got the cooks on a whim because, apparently, they’d found themselves understaffed as well in that department. No forms had been sent or anything. In fact it was kind of a raid.
Tor laughed.
“OK. Kolb, Godfrey, calm down. This isn’t a military advance, it’s… a training opportunity! Send the Count… No, I’ll send the Count, a letter explaining that we understand the “exercise” and will be retrieving our personnel and materials within the week. That will give our people time to do some building. We should presume that they’ll be heavily guarded and that, of course, we can’t use military force to get it done. These are our friends after all. So, Kolb, that’s your department now. Really, I’d like for the personnel to be back as soon as the building is done. Perhaps bring a few of their men back here for training on the gear? Without asking I mean. Say twice as many as they took? Next time they really need to ask though. We could spare more men, and get the work done faster that way for one thing. I’ll put it in the note.”
Both of the other men blinked. Kolb apparently thought that their honor had been besmirched and Godfrey really didn’t want to go up against a Count. Both had good points. Still, Tor explained calmly, chuckling a little for effect, their prime mission had to be getting the work done and building things for other bases wasn’t outside of what they should be doing. As to honor… Tor pulled the secret unit leader aside and spoke to him privately about that.
“Kolb… we don’t have the luxury of that any more. Not during a war, not a force like we have here. I… the faster we all get used to that, the better we’ll all be at our jobs. Really… You know Kolb, send in ten people from your section to work in the kitchen today.” Tor held up his right hand again. “I’ll be in and out there myself, and let them know that they won’t just be taking orders from… whores, but if they do anything but make any of the ladies feel like the Queen her own self they’ll answer directly to me. And no, I have no clue how I’ll back that up, so kind of be vague on that part, alright?” He grinned at Kolb and raised an eyebrow.
Kolb shook his bald head and frowned.
“They… won’t be happy with that Tor. We’ve got a crew that’s about eighty percent noble and…”
That got a nod. They wouldn’t be happy. Tor rubbed at his now hairy chin, the bristles short enough still to be sticking straight out, but long enough that he actually looked to have a beard now, not just a very dirty face. Mostly. After a second he shrugged.
“I don’t care. They don’t have to like what they’re doing, most of the time they won’t like what they’re doing, but they need to make it seem like they do in this case. Make it part of the mission. Happy hard workers that do their best to act humble and meek. Take orders from people they normally wouldn’t even meet and make the world buy it as real. Their mandate is to go anywhere and do anything. This is anything, and if a kitchen is the worst place we ever have to send any of them, then thank all possible gods, right?”
The letter got sent off within the hour and Tor specifically made a game of it, pointing out that the transports were private property, which meant, he hinted obliquely, that if the Count made a big deal of it, he’d have to come collect them himself. His “threat” there wasn’t that he’d fight the three thousand men at the base or something stupid like that, but that he’d come and be a pain in the rear until they gave up. Of course that meant that no work would be coming from Tor until they did, which would annoy a lot of other people…
The whole thing really would be best handled on friendly, even joking terms. As a prank between friends, this was tolerable. As a training exercise it was… actually kind of a good idea. They all needed the training after all, both forces. All three forces really. He sent the paper off with one of Kolb’s biggest and meanest looking men, a full Baron. He wanted the crisp brown paper delivered, not to have the messenger stolen too.
It was only four hours in, but when he checked all the fields were holding just fine on the shields he’d made that morning. It was a little scary really, because he kept expecting them to fail, or at least have some problem. Be weaker than normal maybe or be twitchy somehow. So far they were, if not perfect, at least perfectly normal. If they held this long it was almost certain they’d hold for years. Still, the wait was worth it. Better safe than not.
Then, digging into one of the heavy wooden trunks under his bed, a nice space saving measure that whoever built the bed had obviously thought about first, having storage there, Tor pulled out three full bags of gold and silver. Counting it out on his bed he got out twenty gold and put the rest away. That had to be good enough as a start, right? Using a nice blue silk bag with a shiny draw string he started to head over to the… Ladies House, towards what was now the inner wall. Rolling his eyes he jogged back to his hut and got twenty of the new shields and the nine water heaters he had. The woman had their own bath house now, he’d heard, but they were still using the main one, because they didn’t have hot water yet. Duh. He’d have done the same thing if he were them. Tor wrapped it all in a single, large piece of tan canvas and started off.
It was late enough that Madam Clarissa was already awake and met him in her parlor, a nicely appointed room by anyone’s standards. The red was a little too rich and bright, mainly velvet pillows and upholstered low couches and a lot of black velvet and lace too, but it wasn’t shabby, and beat what he’d grown up with by about a thousand times. A lot of the room was done up with things made of focus stone, including a few halfway decent statues. Someone had talent. He examined one of them in particular, it was a man standing hands at his side, and a woman kneeling in front of him, her mouth… He blushed when he realized what it depicted.
So, that’s how such things worked? That wasn’t kissing at all… Still, the artwork was fine, nearly as good as anything he’d seen in the palace. If the man could shift away from this kind of subject a little, such a piece could make excellent gifts for Rich and Connie.
Maybe even if he couldn’t. The idea of presenting something like that made him laugh a little as the madam settled on one of the sofas.
“That was a gift from one of the men here. He’s really quite talented. I believe he’s hoping that he can save enough of his pay to one day buy his own shaping rig. I feel he could make a living doing such, don’t you?” Her words had a soft, velvety tone that fit the room somehow. When he turned from the statue her eyes held a glint.
“It really is fine. Have him come to me the next time you see him? Well, after that, I mean. I don’t want to spoil anyone’s fun. I’ll trade him the gear he needs for some future work, that way he won’t have to scrimp along for years, and can do some up in his off hours here. Besides, no one is making those yet but me, the compressors, so it’s a prime time for him to get one. His current job making him me adjacent and all.” Tor walked over to the woman and handed her the bag of gold first. Her eyes went wide, and she looked inside immediately. Before she could speak he explained.
“Right, so, for a while I need to borrow some of your talent for kitchen duty. Any of them that help get paid what they’d normally bring in, assume a good night, with you getting your normal cut. Um, if they want to work some in the evening too, that should count as extra for them, yeah? I don’t want to take them away from their real work here, we kind of need them, but it’s a pinch, what with the flight school having grabbed our cooks for now, so any of your people willing to help, please let them know that they won’t be losing anything by doing so.”
Her mouth hung open for a few seconds, displaying slightly gapped teeth. It wasn’t un-pretty, but the whole thing didn’t make her look overly bright for a few seconds. Even this early in the day she wore heavy makeup, which probably meant she was older than she looked, nearer fifty instead of forty. She took the bag of gold and tucked it away quickly in a cupboard to the side, under a table, as if he was going to take it back. That said a lot about the life that she’d had to lead, he realized.
Next he handed over the water heaters, and explained how it could be used for the showers as well. Tor felt a little awkward for a few seconds, because really, he should be setting it up himself. There was just so much to do and he only had a few hours to check the kitchen then get to his own agonizing training with Kolb. He rubbed at his arms and shoulders absently, he hurt all over of course. It almost made him want to do a deep building project, or at least more copying, so that he could just ignore it for a while. In front of him the woman sucked in air suddenly, as if in shock.
“This…” Tears came to her eyes and she dabbed at them with a handkerchief pulled from her sleeve. Tall as she was, that was a very underclass thing, Tor knew. It was what farm wives did for instance. It told him a little of her actual origin. Oh well. She faked speaking well enough and really, he only recognized the gesture and habit because that was where he was from too. Was he really any different than her? Well, yes. Shorter. Her act of pretending to be upper crust probably fooled a lot more people than his did.
“Master Tor… This is… Thank you! That you care this much about our comfort means a lot to us all.”
Tor held up the rest of what was in the package and explained quickly.
“Shields, a new batch, made a new way, but they seem to be holding well so far. These can’t be sold or traded for anything, understood? Each lady should have one and wear it any time she’s out, or if she goes to the Capital or anything for a trip, but they need to come back here and not find their way to the black market. The King will have my behind if that happens. If anyone needs gold that badly for something, please tell them to just come see me, all right? No need to risk getting in trouble or anything. It’s just, it occurred to me that if someone can lift our cooks, they might want our ladies of industry too. Good luck trying that now!” He smiled and handed the shields over. He just hoped there were enough. He really had no clue how many women worked here. Tor could get them more shields if need be.
“Ladies of industry?” The madam chuckled a little at the term but didn’t mock him overly for it.
Tor grinned and gave her a seated half bow. If someone was doing a job you needed done, it was best not to make them feel uneasy about it, right? You don’t mock a barber and then go for a haircut. He kind of needed to do that himself soon. His hair was getting shaggy enough that Kolb would probably start pulling it during practice to make a point. Absently he rubbed at the straight black mass on his head and winked.
“I need to go now, but please, let me or Countess Thorgood know if there are any problems or if you need anything we can provide. Especially field devices, since I can generally see to that retty easily myself.”
Laughing Clarissa told him that she’d be sure to send over a list. He could tell that she was kidding, but shook his head at her, which got her attention.
“It’s not a joke. If you have a list, send it. I can’t promise instant… anything, but we’ll do our best to see to you and your peoples comfort and safety. Don’t doubt that.”
She bowed low to him when he stood to leave, while holding a curtsy. Ouch. That had to be hard. He took her by the shoulder lightly and helped her stand up. Then patted her on the arm and left. It was always disturbing when people did things like that. He’d have been more comfortable if she’d tried to hug him or something instead.
The kitchen was buzzing with activity but the familiar curly haired girl was gone, which he kind of suspected would be the case. He helped out where he could, which turned out to be on the serving line, the lunch that day being griddle seared, and pan fried, breaded and spiced chicken, potatoes with a creamy dressing and bread rolls. The person doing most of the cooking was a military guy that Tor had never noticed before.
It turned out that his family owned a restaurant. In Galasia of all places. He’d recently joined up with the military when the war started and requested the station, because Tor had helped out his city, saving most of his family. Apparently he wasn’t overly concerned with troll rumors, not being a small child. The man told Tor all of this while working and calling out orders that people, mainly giants and ladies from the house, ran to fulfill as best they could. Sorlee worked on baking with a very familiar, and pretty, tall woman that Tor had taken several beatings from in the last few years. His lips tingled a little in remembered contact too, which caused him to blush a little, but happily enough.
“Petra! How’s it going?” He asked, making his voice sound genial and as happy as he could get it. The large girl turned on him, then sighed deeply and dramatically.
“Oh… it’s you. Well, I knew that it was only a matter of time until the payback came for all those training sessions.” Looking around she leaned in slightly and whispered.
“Truth is we all suck at this Tor. If it wasn’t for Sorlee and Will the restaurant fellow, we’d be standing around grunting and trying to break jars open with rocks. “Ooog me Petra, me cook good” I was all ready to come in and act all superior, all “Counserina of the kitchen” but I’m totally lost. I don’t know anything about baking at all. Honestly, I kind of thought that bread came off the top of the stove until about an hour ago. Did you know that it’s all made in the oven?”
Seriously Tor nodded, trying to keep any hint of a smile from his face, “so I’ve heard. Except for pancakes, some flat breads, pita and tortillas. You probably got the idea of how all bread was made from one of those.”
Petra just threw her hands out to the side and sputtered a little. It was very cute, Tor decided.
“See? I’m so confused.”
Sorlee laughed and patted the huge woman on the arm.
“You’re doing fine. Bread and sweet rolls next. Breads like early rolls… Sweet rolls…” The country girl looked at Tor and spouted a string of real speech for him to translate.
“She’s saying that sweet rolls are a little different, so you can’t use the same bread recipe, but it still has yeast. There’s more sugar, so it takes a little longer to rise. Today she wants to do a currant cinnamon roll. The only thing is, she has to go and practice her transport flying, she’s soloing to the Capital today, so after she shows you how to make the first pan or two, you’ll need to do it yourself.”
The huge girl turned red, and then white. For a few seconds Tor wondered if they were going to lose her to combat rage, but then she shook her head and sighed a little sadly. “I’m not ready for that…”
“I’ll check in on you every few hours, don’t worry, you won’t really be alone and besides, you can do this. Just, take notes so you don’t forget anything and remember, the key to good baking is largely paying attention. It’s like a fight that way, so you have the needed skills. These ovens won’t fluctuate in temperature like a wood stove even, so by watching the time of the first batch you should be able to have the rest out almost perfectly. You’ll do fine.” Tor patted her on the arm too and wondered why she wasn’t wearing a shield. He was. For that matter, if Sorlee and Haper were making a town trip he wanted them to have shields on. Just in case someone wanted to try and take their transport. Who would do that? The guys from the flight school came to mind for some reason.
Tor changed and dropped those devices off on his way to see Kolb, sending ten extra for the people at the delivery service with Sorlee. Since half the combat giants were gone, Kolb decided to work with Tor himself that day.
Yay. Special attention.
Tor had to run again, but not as far, because he was already so sore. The stone work was abridged too, thank god. That just left a nearly hour long beating from the weapons instructor. For the first time ever, the man was actually just hitting him. With his hands and feet at least. With the sword and stick he let Tor have some vastly over-sized practice armor. It swam on him so much that it almost wasn’t worth having; the sleeves covered his arms and part of the weapon, which was fine with the sword. After all, you grabbed the handle and swung, without ever letting go. The stick, which required frequent changes of hand position, was nearly impossible. He even dropped it once, without Kolb even touching him. The man just grinned wickedly and moved on him with his own stick. Tor back pedaled then gave his battled cry, the very one Kolb had spent years drumming into his head.
“Run away!”
“About time you remembered that Tor. One duel with a half mental defective Count and you stop even trying to get away. Not everyone is going to be a wimp like Rodriguez, picking on children… Good, now we can start on the real work. Tomorrow though. Bring your shield, flying rig and anything else you think might help you in a fight. Bring enough to share if you have new things. Run first and meet me here at three tomorrow.”
Whee. Well, at least he’d have a shield. Tor wondered if he’d get to use it. That wasn’t at all certain. We’ll, he’d live. Probably.
The rest of the day was spent hooking up the water system from the new river, which he dubbed, “the secret” river. So far no note from the King or any of the rest of the royal family about it. That was kind of surprising, because, well, it was over six hundred miles long and had a huge flow, several times what the King’s river had this time of year. For no one to notice it was scary. Half of it ran right behind a military base for goodness sake. Those people flew over it all the time too…
Freaky that it hadn’t been mentioned.
If they were missing this, what else was going on that they didn’t know about?
Every hour or so he checked the kitchen and, slightly to his surprise, Petra had the sweet rolls well in hand. She needed help making the icing, but that was fair, since she hadn’t been shown how before Sorlee left for the afternoon. Really, as he watched, Tor felt impressed and a little proud of everyone.
The kitchen was running. Not smoothly, and not well, but they’d have food and for the most part no one would be ending up with food poisoning even. That was a lot more than he’d expected. Maybe they should get more professional restaurant people in, if they were all like Will. And some professional bakers. Tor blinked. Yeah. That might just work.
“Excuse me Will…”
He started. The man jumped again when he realized who was speaking to him, but smiled when he heard the pitch. It turned out the young man had a whole family that could do this kind of thing. Some of whom might even be willing to relocate.
Could he just hire people like that? Well, more to the point, if he paid for it, would the military stop him? Tor didn’t think so. He’d get into town soon and ask about it at the palace. He could sweeten the deal with some shields and flying rigs if he hurried. First though, he had to get the new pump system put in so that everyone had water to their bath houses and restrooms. It took until dark, when lights started coming on in the surrounding buildings he headed back to his own hut.
He’d gotten just passed the door cut in the tall inner wall when he saw the silhouette.
It was a person, female, and even wearing a dress or skirt. Or a man wearing a skirt, if it was something sinister, he supposed. It really felt that way. Dark and evil, to tell the truth. It caught the attention if nothing else.
Tor had his shield on already, it was just habit after all that had happened. The figure held a knife, the edge glittering gently in the light from the nearest buildings, and they waited for him to pass before jumping out and trying to stab him. It wasn’t a clumsy move, not really, but the lights of the building had back lit the form. The size was right, but Tor knew one thing for certain. It wasn’t Trice or Wensa. Either of them would have known that he had a shield on all the time by now, especially if he was outside. The mask was the same as before, Tor thought so anyway. A full leather thing that looked to fasten in the back. Kind of like the helm that Trice had worn the other day.
Tor hit the sigil on the Not-flyer he wore. It was one of the new kind too, faster than the ones allowed in town. Catching up to the running form wasn’t hard with the extra speed, but grabbing them was. Twist followed turn as they fled, making it a real enough race, even if Tor was traveling about four times faster than the assassin. He didn’t stop, doubling back over and over again, trying to catch hold or knock the person over. Finally he got them cornered.
Literally.
They’d run towards the wall, but in a direction there was no door, where the inner dividing wall met the outer and they joined, fused glass like focus stone leaving no seam or gap to wiggle through, no hand hold to allow climbing. They spun around and fought with their waistband, obviously going for a weapon of some kind. Tor slammed into them as fast as he could go, letting his shield force their body back, slamming the person into the wall hard. Dress or not, the grunt that came out was all man. Deep and oddly accented.
So were the words that followed.
“Fuck! Why don’t you just die already you half sized freak?” The man said, slightly muffled by the mask. The voice was deep enough, but not one he recognized at all.
Then a brilliant blue light came from the man’s hand, something he held, Tor guessed, as pain ripped through his body and he started to convulse over and over again. The man hung over him and tried to kick him, but the foot stopped in the air. His weapon may be able to get through the shield, and it hurt badly, but the man still couldn’t touch him. Heh. Well, another thing to be fixed on the shield then.
A minute or two later, pain coursing through him the whole time, Tor heard people coming. The man said “fuck” again, but ran off. By the time people started showing up Tor had climbed to his feet shakily. That… whatever it was, hurt. He’d never heard of a weapon that could do that. It went right through his shield, so there was no physical component. A mental effect? Most of those should be filtered out already, but it could be. That or someone had found a way around what he’d guarded against already. Could it have been the light? That made sense, he’d never seen a real need to shield against light at all. How it worked to make his muscles seize up like that, he didn’t know. Effective though.
Godfrey came running holding something that looked like a military lance, glittering a soft silver in the pale glow from the buildings, and demanded a situation report, so Tor tried to fill him in, voice still wavering and halting. It was a bit fear, a bit reaction after the fact, and a lot of response to whatever had been done. Tor kind of wondered why the man hadn’t just used that weapon first. Still, while it hurt, he wasn’t injured really. Sore and uncomfortable, but unless it did some hidden lasting damage, it just seemed to inflict pain. So, annoying but not really dangerous? Not if the user of the weapon couldn’t attack you in any other way.
He’d hate to be hit with it while flying. He’d probably accelerate straight into the ground. Then he’d really be uncomfortable.
Tor headed back to Kolb’s section at a slow walk, because the man knew more about weapons than anyone else Tor had ever met to talk to, so he was the go-to guy on that. Besides, other than looking for the person, what else could they do? As assassination attempts went it was the poorest one so far, if the most clearly lethal in intent for all that. A knife in the back coming from the dark?
Yeah that was pretty clear, no subtly, or wondering if it was really about him. Dressing like they had before, if it was the same person at all, was a good sign too. Plus asking him why he didn’t die already… That kind of showed intent. The mask looked right, but it wasn’t like he’d gotten to examine it closely last time. This time he got a good long look as he writhed in pain. Light brown leather with a slit for the mouth and eye holes. The eye color was eerie, almost black. He’d only ever seen one person like that before. But then it was dark, so maybe the eyes had just been deep brown or even a dark blue?
Tor knew one thing, he needed to talk to someone. There was one person that might be able to give him a clue at least. One… that might talk to him anyway. He just had to figure out how to set it all up.
Kolb was outside, running towards him by the time Tor staggered through the door in the dividing wall. Holding up a hand Tor filled him in as quickly as possible. Nothing he had to say was a secret, so he just kept talking when the others ran up. He stiffened a little when a person wearing a dress, one about the right height and build ran up behind him. Wrong style though. This one looked pretty, rather than merely functional.
Without turning completely he whispered to her softly, not caring if he made sense.
“Leave Trice. Talk later. Be careful, someone’s watching.” Yeah, it was a risk. If he was gambling wrong, then Trice would probably kill him later. Then again, if he was really wrong she should have probably tried to do it already. That she came back for him when she knew that he knew she was there… that had to mean that she wasn’t trying to kill him at least. Maybe. That or it was one of those convoluted super-plans of the nobles. In that case, he was probably walking dead into the trap.
“Tor I…” She began her voice tremulous.
“No. Not here. Sneak into my place later?”
That gave her a way in if she needed to kill him at least. He wondered if she’d come at all? Probably not. Nodding gently, almost imperceptibly she backed away and found the shadows nearest them, somehow that he didn’t understand she managed to vanish almost instantly, blending in seamlessly, letting the night cover her. It was a good trick. Was it just skill or had she use a device for that? If he could make a light, could he make light leave an area too? It seemed likely.
Tor gave Kolb everything he knew, which wasn’t much, when he really just went over everything, and then headed back with four very large men guarding him. He appreciated the comfort, he told them, but he needed them to leave for an actual reason. They didn’t argue, but he could tell they all wanted too. Probably because they figured that if they stayed up all night guarding him they’d get out of kitchen duty the next day. He grinned and told them it didn’t work like that, which got a dark chuckle back at least.
Laughing, if hollowly, they pulled back as he went in. He didn’t know if they were planning on leaving or standing guard all night. He kind of hoped they left, because he was pretty safe in his hut. Short of a really big explosive of some sort being used he didn’t think a lot could touch him in there. Well, unless someone just walked in, but how likely was that? Just in case he kept the shield on and had Ursala and Sara do the same as soon as he could. Both sat at the table. Ursala with papers in front of her, the pen in her hand made it seem like she was writing, not just reading letters. Sara sat with some bead work.
That was interesting. Tor hadn’t known she did something like that as a hobby. The piece she worked on even looked pretty nice. Small shining yellow and amber colored pieces on a pure white background. He commented on it as he sat down, just after suggesting they get their shields on if they weren’t already.
“Tor? What’s wrong?” Sara asked as she slapped at the medallion around her neck.
“Someone tried to kill me. Again. The same person that kicked me down the stairs at school, pretty sure at least. If not, they at least know each other. Same dress and mask. Tried to stab me in the back.” He left out the pain device. That hurt, but if it was meant to be lethal it had failed horribly. He’d fill in that part later.
Gasping Sara stared for a few seconds.
“You don’t think… that it was Trice do you, because she isn’t-” Tor held up his hand.
“Same height, nearly the same build and wearing a skirt or dress. But really, unless she’s secretly been a man this whole time, it isn’t her. Not Wensa either, same rationale. So at the very least this is an outside player, but…”
But the eye’s. He knew he’d seen them before; he just had to make sure he was right. How could he check though? That was the hard part. The impossible part, probably.
“Anyway, I saw Trice. I told her to come here tonight, so…” Tor didn’t want them to leave, but would Trice come if they were there? They both thought that wouldn’t matter, so he let the issue go. They knew more about what she was up to than he did, that much was clear. Then Ursala was a sitting Countess. Odds were she knew a lot of things that Tor wasn’t privy to. Sara was… her best friend. Also in the camp of knowing a lot that Tor wouldn’t he bet. He could accept that.
After all, he probably knew a thing or two about Rolph that Sara didn’t. What that was he couldn’t imagine, but it was probably true at least.
Tor went behind his screen and started working, since sitting around aimlessly and waiting for someone that might not even come wouldn’t help anything. On the third set of shields for the night, just as he finished, big batches like he’d done earlier, he opened his eyes in the dim light to find he wasn’t alone.
Trice stood in front of him.
Lights were on past his divider, they shone through the white cloth giving everything a slightly diffuse glow. At least everyone else knew she was there. He’d decided to trust her, true. Tor even meant it. That didn’t mean that a few things didn’t stir up inside when he saw her again.
Anger.
A bit of fear. Longing for something that had probably never been real at all anyway and a few other things he couldn’t even name at the moment.
She just stood, dressed very similarly to how the ladies of the house dressed for work, at least from what little he’d seen of them. She had a tight bodice on that showed off her bust line and a bright purple, silky dress with black lace trim that wasn’t overly long. The boots she wore were high and jet black, going to her knees, over them in fact. The top part was scuffed from kneeling. It was what the girls he’d seen in the city had worn too. Given what he’d seen from the statue earlier, it made sense, after all the streets of the Capital were stone and it would hurt to be on them in some alley for too long. Kind of sensible really. For a few seconds he wondered if the boots had been gotten used or if she’d broken them in herself. Then he let that idea go.
After all, Trice had been willing to say the things she had about him to reach her goal, even knowing that he might not take it well. Given her culture and society, it was pretty close to as bad as you could get with words too. If she had to service some men to make everything work after that, he didn’t doubt that she would. For that matter, she may have had to, just in order to get into the house he’d had put in the back. It would be hard to blame her for that then, since it had been his idea in the first place. It wasn’t like she could hide from him in the kitchen, was it? Tor had found her there in what, two hours? Less?
He cleared the shields off his bed and patted it.
“Sit, please. If you want to I mean.” He tried to sound nice about it. Tor couldn’t tell for sure, but he’d though he’d done pretty well, even though she winced.
“Don’t worry, I just don’t have a chair back here. It’s not an invitation to ply your new trade.” Tor smiled and gave her a wink.
She took a deep breath, nodded and sat down.
“You know I didn’t mean that stuff I said, right? I mean the others have told you why? How I had to get close to the Wards so that I could find some evidence on them?” She looked nervous and he shrugged.
“Everyone’s mentioned something about it, but no one really bothered to explain why it had to be you, or why you didn’t just tell me first. Did you really think that I care so much about looking good that I wouldn’t help set a trap for killers? God Trice. I’d been willing to die for you, what, twice already by then, and you really… you didn’t have to marry me or anything, but… why didn’t you tell me?” He tried, mainly successfully, to keep the sadness out of his voice when he asked. She looked down at the bed anyway.
Silence followed for a long time. Several times she started to talk, then finally she just shook her head. “I can’t tell you Tor. But know that I didn’t want to do it the way I did, and that I didn’t mean any of those things. Well, except that your short and really your kissing could use some work-” She gave him a cute half grin, trying to be playful.
Leaning in quickly he kissed her hard. Thanks to Ursala, Sara and Varley he’d actually gotten a little practice. She kissed him back for about a minute and then pulled back, with tears in her eyes.
“Right, so you’re still short, but you don’t kiss like a dog any more. Tor… I’m so sorry. I would have married you, you know that right? I still will, when this is over, if you’ll have me…” Trice’s voice actually sounded hopeful.
“Um, well… No.” He said firmly, then kissed her again. He didn’t know if it would soften the blow, if it was a blow to her at all, but she did at least kiss him back.
After a few minutes she pulled back and raised her eyebrows a bit. “Why not?”
It sounded a lot more hurt than Tor would have thought.
He shrugged. It was in the letter anyway, so he might as well tell her now, right?
“I’m already engaged again.”
“Who? Sara? I… know she was going to ask. Really, I was kind of surprised you didn’t say yes. Now it would be outside the three steps, but… well, who’s going to tell you no?”
“No, um, Varley. Sara kind of stepped in as a backup though, unless she gets something going first, which, I mean, come on, she’s great, right? I’m a little surprised she doesn’t have someone lined up already. If she doesn’t soon, my little brother will be all over her.”
That led to a whole conversation about their options, which given everything shocked Tor more than a little. He’d figured that he’d be lucky if Trice would be his friend again someday and wasn’t really sure he wanted her to be anything more. That she wanted to be his lover… Well, that made him blush. Then again, it could, he knew, still all be a trick. It was easy enough to lie about things like that, at least to him, wasn’t it? For all he knew she really was trying to set him up to die. Tor shrugged mentally, if so, then he’d do what he had to in order to be a good friend. As long as he could at least. Smiling he agreed that they should be close again, but put her off for the night, since he still hadn’t been with a woman and really wanted Ursala to be his first.
“Oh?” Trice sounded surprised at that.
“Sure! She’s great and really, if I suck with her, which I’m sure I will, well, she’s already going to be marrying someone else anyway, so it won’t matter too much. Besides she already promised to teach me this stuff, we kind of have a deal of sorts, so I want to get good at it first.” He chuckled softly. “Besides, I have other plans for you tonight…” He let his own voice go as playful as he could get it. The next part wouldn’t be fun, but fighting with the girls about it first would just make it harder. Even he could see that.
What he said was true of course but he knew that by saying it playfully it would make it sound a little naughty. The fact was just that he didn’t know if she’d go along with the plan if she knew it. No. That wasn’t right. He knew for a fact she wouldn’t. Who would? It was insane. Tor started dropping into a trance and not thinking about it himself.
First he had some questions for her.
“Do you remember the guy that started hanging out with Dorgal Sorvee and Marko at school? Older, about twenty-five, mustache, black eyes that were kind of freaky?” Trice stiffened and sat up straight.
“Yeesss. He, uh, hangs out with the Wards. I think that he’s one of Maria’s lovers. Laval? I think that’s the name I’ve heard at least. I’ve been hiding as a prostitute and had less cock in the last month than Maria in any given week…” She looked away suddenly, as if embarrassed.
“What? Some of my best friends are ladies of industry. Kind of own the house you’ve been working in you know, so I’m not going to judge. Besides, it’s all practice, right?” It was hard for him to believe the words himself, but she gave him a shy look and nodded, looking… grateful. Tor nodded back, faking a confident air. Friend or not, the idea left him a little jealous. She was willing to take on all comers, but not him? Then, he hadn’t exactly pushed her that way, had he? Maybe she would have hopped into bed with him at any time, if he’d just asked, or even hinted it would be fun… It probably didn’t matter really. The past had already happened, now it was time for the future.
“So, what did you want to do? I could… you know, with my mouth? Just don’t grab the back of my head or get overly thrusty and it’s kind of hard to mess that up. You’d surprised how many men do though. I’m even wearing the right boots for it.” Taking her hand he led her to the main portion of the room where Sara and Ursala sat at the table nervously.
“Right, so Trice, get down on your knees please, since you offered so nicely and it works so well with my plans for you.” He said, holding back a chuckle. She looked at the other women, then nodded a little shyly and took a deep breath. Trice sunk to her knees in front of him her eyes down and started working on his belt.
“Little kinkier than I thought we’d go the first time, but if it’s what you want, we’re all friends here after all…” She blushed, but that could just be because she was in front of people she knew, not because he was there and she felt embarrassed about him being… Him. Right? Shaking his head a little to clear the idea Tor spoke calmly, making a point of holding his mind away from what was coming. He sank deeper, until it could be heard in his voice, he knew.
“Not… exactly the plan I’m afraid, though that does sound like fun. And please know, I am afraid. God this is going to suck. These two need to be here in case it goes wrong. If so, sorry in advance?” Tor sighed, a big and slightly shuddering thing.
“Got a knife?”
She did have one, and after a few seconds she pulled it her eyes showing a lot of fear. Did she think he was going to use it on her? That would be unthinkable.
“So, I think that the guy that tried to kill me, maybe two or three times now, is with the Wards. If you’re going back there, you need a reason for him to have seen you here. I don’t know if he did or not, but if he didn’t notice you, he’s a moron. You ran out openly enough. So…you’d come to kill me yourself, but then someone else tried and botched it, being a moron no doubt, so you had to act fast before you got caught in the sweeps that will be coming of all personnel, and replaced my regular girl from the house, because I’m so pathetic that I have to pay for it, obviously, and just walked in here, sacrificing your… virtue a bit, so that you’d know where to stab, because, you know, it’s all dark, which is why I didn’t know it was you, too dark to see and really, you and I never did anything like this before, so how was I to know? I probably keep the lights low so I can pretend it’s you, don’t you think? You were servicing me in my part of room, kind of like this but a bit more mouth action, Waited for me to really get into it, then you pull your knife and…”
Without giving her warning at all he grabbed her hand and stabbed himself in the left side. Pain seared through him. Not just the wound, it felt like it ranged through his body. He gasped at it but managed not to scream. Well, good thing he hadn’t thought about this much first! He did it again, making all the girls gasp. Then once more and sank to the floor.
“Got a flying rig and shield?” He asked her as the color faded from her face.
“Not on me, in my stuff back in the room. I’ve got a shield, but it’s one of the ones Madam Clarissa passed out earlier…” She actually shook a little and dropped the knife.
“Pick the knife up and wipe it off on my shirt Trice. Make it look like you thought I was dead, or would be soon. Take my flying rig and grab a handful of shields, since that was what I’ve been working on today anyway, and makes sense that you’d get some. Sara, next to the bed, one panicked Trice size handful please. Ursala, if you could get me a cloth? I really don’t want to bleed to death here… Plus, you know, I’m ruining this rug, we’ll have to move it to my section, next to the bed. I don’t think I can help with that…” He started to laugh, but it hurt too much. God this was stupid. But then he was banking on the fact that no one would ever stab themselves three times like this to make an attack look real and not like some faked up trick. Now all he had to do was not die. Easy. He’d been not dying his entire life.
So far.
Sara handed over the amulets and then urged Trice to hurry. The flying rigs hand piece artistically had some of his blood on it and so did her work clothes. Once she got the stuff on Tor stopped her for a second.
“Right, so Trice, you get away, we’ll buy you some time, half an hour or so. Go to the Wards to hide out, let them see all the blood. One of the girls will have disappeared from the house, so we’ll know who the stabber was, yeah? But no one will know it was you by name, just the general description. Do something drastic like cut and color your hair to try…Ugh. Um, to uh, try and hide. That should look right. One second.” A wave of pain made him grunt and his breath stick in his throat for a bit.
“Right… So, in a few days… a package will come, with Collette Coltress. Stuff for you to destroy or sell or maybe give away. Trash me in front of them, but then you… tell them you’re going to pretend to be my friend and come here, no, Capital, people know you here… Then you try to kill me again. Get help from Wards. Meet you there in a month, no, make it two. I’ve got work to do yet here. Need to heal.”
That, he hoped was clear. Ursala told Trice to fly away as fast as she could, dark or not. Oh. He’d forgotten that part. It was incredibly dangerous to fly in the dark, though good for a getaway. No one could see you to follow.
“Stay up in the air till daylight. Be careful.” He muttered, just before everything went dark.
When Tor came too he had bandages wrapped around his middle and pillows propped under his head. It was his little area of the single room, but the dividing screens had been removed. Kolb and Godfrey rushed over and started trying to question him at once. Ursala had been sitting next to him, but moved out of the way. She looked appropriately white and shaky and Sara, bless her, was fake crying over on the other side of the room.
It actually sounded pretty good, but her real tears came almost silently and this sounded a lot more like what Trice did. It made him wonder if Trice really had been hamming it up all those times? Probably. Who cried like that for real? It was a bit like people that practically screamed and roared each time they sneezed. It kind of had to be phony.
There were seven other people in the room. One the military doctor, or so he was told. The rest were four of Kolb’s men and two of his female instructors. He recognized one of them as his friend, Petra, who looked nearly panicked, he gave her a weak wave to try and reassure her. For some reason she started crying, just a little, real tears streaming down her smooth brown face, and not loud at all. He must look a real mess to make someone cry like that. Well, that should help sell the story at least. Still… It was just a couple of stab wounds. They sucked, but it wasn’t anything truly major and she was, if nothing else, a warrior. She’d seen wounds, even if only in practice, so she’d deal with it soon enough, he figured. Tor felt bad about leaving her in the dark, but it was needed for now.
Tor gasped out the cover story completely, including how it was just the regular whore he had in late each night after the Prince’s women fell asleep. He acted a bit defensive about it. After all, if the Prince could have sex regularly, why couldn’t he, right? Tor owned a whorehouse, it seemed only fitting that he be familiar with the services offered there. He stiffened his jaw as if expecting to be judged. Well, that would probably be coming, but his good name wasn’t going to be worth much soon anyway, so why bother trying to protect it now?
Kolb seemed a little shocked at what he said, but everyone else seemed to just accept it. A few even nodding in agreement with him. Tor would of been more upset by that, but half the men in the room had already used the ladies services too he realized, including Godfrey and Kolb most likely. Right, there was a reason the ladies had been invited originally, wasn’t there? After he went over the same story twice and Ursala and Sara put in their versions of the tale, Sara’s complete with tears and just enough different from Ursala’s to sound real, Tor asked if the room could be cleared.
Then he told Godfrey and Kolb the real tale as Sara sat even closer to the door crying loudly. It was brilliant he realized, giving them almost perfect cover. No one could be listening otherwise, he didn’t think. He whispered anyway, just in case. Who knew what magics Ward had in place?
“So, I need to heal up here for a few days, then go to the Capital to “recover” in a month and a half or so. Trice should lead the killers there. I probably shouldn’t stay at the palace… Maybe Tovey… I mean Count Thomson, would be willing to put me up for a bit? Ursala, would you send off a letter tomorrow and ask? Um, for me and you I think. We need Sara here, since she has a real job to do and I don’t want Rolph near assassins at all if we can help it. Not you either Ursa, normally, but if anyone deserves a crack at these people personally it’s you. Wait… would you ask if we can bring a guard too, given everything? There are a few people here that have nearly as good a claim on these monsters as you do.”
If Tovey said no, then he’d see what else he could arrange. The Coltress family might house them if need be for instance. He could bribe the Baron with apple raisin hand pies. The palace wouldn’t work at all. Trying to kill him there would be insane and no one would even bother setting anything up. Except Smythe, but Tor didn’t really think the man was in with the Wards. Speaking of which, he really needed to get to the build on the shield to cover the palace. Well, he could go out and see what he could learn about blast forces the next day. If he could move at all.
If not he could stay in and make devices all day. The military would like that at least. He had to get what he could done now, because soon, Tor feared, he was going to be busy.