Karen kept screaming at the smaller person to get up, which they finally did, being hit the whole time, about thirty seconds later. No complaints came, they just started fighting again. Well, whoever the other person was, Tor knew one thing; they were tougher than he was. A better fighter too. Obviously whoever Karen feared would kill them, it wasn't him. They continued back and forth for another twenty minutes before they stopped to get some water, sweat dripping from both of them.
After the tall woman doffed her helm, the padded gray leather dark now, because of the sweat, she drank dippers of water for a while without stopping. It must be extra hot today, Tor realized. He hadn't noticed, since it just felt pleasant to him personally. He dug out one of the equalizing amulets, looked at the other person, a boy that looked familiar, and realized they each should have one. Heat didn’t care if you were in charge or not. It took a second to find, then another to untangle the hemp strings they were on.
“Here.” He handed the amulets over without saying more.
Almost automatically they put them on and activated them.
“Whooo!” Karen yelled suddenly. “Oh my god…” Her eyes closed for a bit and then she smiled.
“Where have you been all my life? I’d heard about these, from Rolph Merchant, but I didn’t think I’d get to use one.”
The boy looked at him and smiled a little, a sad and abstract thing. He got it now, it was the boy with the washing, the one that helped him test the clothes dryer that first time. He'd grown, standing at least four inches taller now, even after only a few months.
Royals. They grow up so fast. Tor smiled a little but didn’t laugh. The kid was a Countier after all, and could take offense.
“David, isn't it? David Derring?” Tor held his hand out to shake and the boy’s face lit up a little.
“Yeah. I didn't know if you'd remember me or not.”
Karen looked at them and grinned herself. “And here Davie's been telling everyone at home he hadn't made any important contacts yet. This will make dad happy at least, as long as we can keep you alive…” Her look went dark then, but she shrugged and turned to Tor, explaining.
“Out of the blue some Count challenged him to a duel last week. It's insane, of course, who challenges little kids like that? They've never even met. Worse, since the guys a sitting Count, Davie can't even kill him, but the guy can take him out without anyone saying much at all. Apparently dad got into an argument with him when they were at the Capital, so the guys trying to punish him by killing my brother.”
Duel?
In theory, Tor knew they could happen, but he didn't know what the rules were or even if there were any. He asked, not even thinking that it might be hard for the boy to hear until after he said the words, but David answered with authority. He'd obviously been studying up on the topic. No doubt. Tor would have been doing that too.
“It's simple enough. Two men meet, or women, though not usually mixed it's not totally forbidden, and they fight, using whatever they can bring. Well, it has to be just the two of them, and weapons that can be carried on your person, but you show up with your best weapons and fight until you can't anymore. Usually it stops when one of them is dead. But in this case, I can't actually try to kill the Count on purpose. If he dies by an honest accident, that might work, since he challenged me, not the other way around. I have another two weeks to get ready. He's coming here to kill me.”
The boy looked down and hung his head.
“The guy is huge and has a shield and full combat aura if he rages, as well as direct effect in a fight. I don't have anything yet, I may never. So, my odds aren't good.”
Any weapons? Did that mean that shields would count as well? He asked, getting a snort from Karen.
“Well, yeah. But we can't borrow one from the school for it, since they aren't allowed to be involved and short of getting one on the black market, which is almost impossible… what are we supposed to do? The weapons have to be legally and fully owned, they can't be borrowed anyway. It the law. Even a Count has to follow that one.” She looked miserable, almost ready to cry, which didn't match what he knew about her at all.
Tor scratched his nose absently.
“Oh. Well, I guess he can just use the shield from the flying gear I gave him for his birthday? Oh, yeah, right…” He pulled out a set, flying rig and shield and handed one to Karen and another to Davie. “Happy birthday, Davie. Sorry your gift was late like this. I’ll have the rest of it soon.”
Karen went slightly pale. “But…”
Tor's eyes flashed and he didn't let her speak. Pointing rudely with on finger at what she held instead. Then he bowed from the waist going about halfway down. He hadn’t tried to kill her after all. He stood after about fifteen seconds, hoping that was long enough.
“Yours is by way of a blatant bribe to keep you from killing me too much for being gone all this time. I apologize fully and humbly for my absence. If it helps, it was work related, and I felt that my life hung in the balance. Um, I made a new kind of poison detector. You two get those for free too, but, you know, there's a waiting list, everyone here is getting one if they want it. David… well, he's my friend. He helped me do testing on my very first novel build project, and you know, there's no debt between friends. I don't know if that's a thing here, but it is where I come from, and it means that at need he can have anything I own, or can make, obviously you too Karen, if it comes up. Besides…”
Surprising even himself his voice came out in a half growl. “This Count really thinks he can kill one of my friends that easily? Not if I can do anything about it. Now, we need weapons for you too, right? I've never made any, but let's see what we can come up with…”
Karen wouldn't let them go out to the range instantly to examine weapons, because Tor had to exercise first. Needed to badly as it turned out. The only kindness he was shown was that Davie got to beat him instead of Karen, and he had a feeling that the boy was pulling his blows out of pity, due to his still injured leg. Otherwise he'd have been dumped on the ground more times than he was. Then they worked stones, swinging the heavy rocks with their metal handles around in various exercises until he just couldn't any more. That was normal, but then she had them do it with lighter weights and didn't let them stop until they could barely budge even the smallest ones, which only weighed ten pounds each.
Only then was Karen satisfied enough to fly with Tor out to the range. David, for all that he now owned a set of flying gear, had never actually gotten to use the schools yet. First years and non-combat students didn't rate, it seemed. Tor chuckled at that, because he wouldn't have either, if he didn't have his own. Even at that, he'd never practiced fighting with a shield on at all. Unless having Count Ward pound on him that one time counted as practice? He was probably supposed to stick to the idea Kolb had taught him and run away if he could. It seemed like a good plan to him. Fly away now, if he had the right amulet with him.
The range, when they got there, was not impressive. A bit of a letdown really. It was just a large open area that had some dried and scrubby grass growing in clumps, and bare earth along the far end. The ground rose into an earth berm that looked to be twenty or thirty feet thick and about the same height. In front, near the ground, there were a few objects set up as targets. A painted boulder with a fresh looking red x stood next to a half dozen standing wooden plates that were hung in red painted frames.
Karen walked to a locked box next to where they landed and slapped the lock plate, which got the box to open. She took out three of the object inside and handed one to Tor.
“Keep it pointed down range please. At all times if possible. These are real weapons, if… Well, I think you'll get it. Pick a target and give it a try.”
The device itself looked familiar, just a silver piece of metal that had a small sigil on it where his thumb could reach pretty easily. It was obviously made for bigger hands than his, but he was used to that, and just gripped it closer to the middle, before pointing it down range. He aimed at the boulder, not wanting to waste the wooden targets, and activated it.
A puff of dirt came off of the dirt backing, about ten feet too high. Since he stood about two hundred feet away that was probably just due to poor aim. It wasn't like he'd done it before. He aimed lower and hit the rock, but it didn't do much. The boulder moved a little. At least he thought it did. That might have been imagination.
“This is just a force lance, but it's only about four times what a student’s lance would be. The fields degrading. Not that we need vast power levels for practice, but it would be nice to have a few around that could be aimed reliably. Here, try this one. Aim for the stone again.”
Nothing happened in the air between the boulder and himself, but a flame finally burst out of the air around the boulder. He'd seen something like this one before at least. Close up. The flame flickered and died almost instantly.
All of the weapons did that as he tried them. They worked for a single hit or blast, and then you had to trigger them again. The flame one was just that weak, the field flickering and fading even as he used it. He caught the feeling of the field, but realized that it took power from the user to make it function. Why, he wondered? That didn't seem like a good idea for people that needed to keep fighting for a long time, did it? It could work by just concentrating ambient heat at the point of focus just as well. Better probably.
The rest all did the same, except the cutters. Even the one explosive weapon they had for practice was weak and grabbed energy from the user. That, Karen explained, was why they didn't just stay on all the time. You had to be very strong to use a weapon like that, and no one could do it for more than about a minute all told, and those people paid for it in exhaustion latter.
Well. That explained why Wensa hadn't suffocated him with fire at the shield test then. She'd just run out of energy? Thank goodness for that.
Tor saw a half dozen ways to improve the weapons instantly. He'd have to fly back before he could get the ideas on paper, but he nodded. So better weapons, and one that could take out a Count without killing him? That… could be a lot trickier.
He didn't promise anything, but Karen probably got that he wasn't going to let a kid go into a fight with a grown man unarmed. He'd challenge the guy himself first, even if it meant he had to die. As it was though, honestly, David was probably more capable of surviving this fight than he would be. The shield would help, probably, and a few weapons that didn't drain him while being used.
Tor focused on those, a force lance that would pack a punch and an explosive that could be used if things got really desperate. Then he needed something that would take out the man’s personal shield somehow. Really, that would be the hardest part. It would be easier to beat the man unconscious even through the shield than to disable it. That would be dangerous though, because beating him into giving up was just a breath away from killing the man.
In the end he didn't have anything even remotely like a shield remover ready in time. Tor felt a little panicked when he flew with Rolph and Kolb out to the testing range. Karen and David already waiting, everyone clearly feeling a little agitated, except Rolph. He seemed cool and relaxed about the whole thing.
“Don't worry Davie. If Tor's on it, you'll be fine.” His large friend, long red hair pulled back into a ponytail, smiled and patted the boy on the back.
The vote of confidence was appreciated, but Tor just hoped what little he could bring to bear would be enough to save the kid. The fields were on copper tubes, because he couldn't afford to give away real silver, even if it was the standard for weapons. He couldn't even afford solid copper. Taking a deep breath he held up the first one.
“Force lance.” Triggering it he aimed at the targets, the constant barrage of force hit the backing wall first, but he didn't turn it off and it didn't just pulse like a normal weapon. He spoke while it hit the targets knocking most of them down as he swept the weapon back and forth.
“It doesn't take personal energy; it's just an organizing field. I'm a little uncertain why the regular ones grab from the user, to tell the truth, but this is way easier to use and you can leave it on. It's strong, but shouldn't kill the guy instantly if he has a shield or even heavy armor. On the good side, it will affect a person even through one of the shields I've made, except for the newest version, which you'll be wearing, so even if he has one of my earlier models it will be at least a little effective. That way the weapon can't be used against you even if he takes it away or something. It just tells stuff to move, kind of like the flight field, or more like the Falcon's or how a water pump works. Obviously you can't fly with the new shield on though, not yet, so wear both and only use the new one when you're on the ground.”
Taking his thumb off from the sigil Tor moved to the next one.
“Alright, this is… Well, it's not a proper military weapon at all. It just locks all the air out of an area, so that a person inside the field, about ten by ten, can't breathe. Really it doesn't even remove the air, it just doesn't let it flow, the original idea came when I was working on water sculptures that will hang in the air. Anyone want to test it?”
To his surprise Kolb volunteered with a small smile. After about half a minute he waved his hand and Tor stopped.
“That works! I could still fight, but I couldn't breathe, and it felt hard to move. Like being stuck in place. So he won't be able to fight fast, even in a combat rage. Keep this trained on a person and move back as they do and within a few minutes the fight should be over. Nice thinking Tor.” Kolb stared at him for a moment, then smiled. Really he looked proud.
Tor held up the final piece he had and took another huge breath then let it out.
“This is… Look, David, if the counts going to kill you, I mean really kill you, like you’re going to die, not just be beaten a little, then use this, but… well, I think you'll get the idea.”
Tor turned and activated the device, pointing it at the field next to the range, flat, but holding a few trees and some boulders as big as the one with the red x on it. It exploded. Huge walls of dirt and rock flew back and up, digging furrows about fifteen feet across into the ground, moving it back and forth he outlined and then dug out a rectangle with a berm at the back, since it was the only place the earth and stone could move. This took about three minutes. It was loud, like thunder the whole time. Tor was the one doing it and felt a little like soiling himself in fear, just from the sound.
When he turned around everyone stared at him. Looking odd. Well, it wasn't exactly normal was it?
“Yeah. So, not much of a toy. Still, if the guy won't back off, it gives you something to go to.”
Rolph stood breathing hard, looking at Tor and swallowing almost convulsively. “Tor…”
Kolb took it and gave it a try for about thirty seconds himself. Then handed it off to Rolph to use, each of the others going after that. Then the large bald man picked up all the weapons.
“So, Davie, these are all yours, but you can't have them at school, obviously. These are just too dangerous. I'll keep them for you until the duel, if that's acceptable?” This question was addressed to Rolph, who nodded slowly.
“Yes… Um, Tor, I'm going to have to request that you not give these out as gifts. Especially those explosives.” His hand flew up. “I know, by law you can, and I can't order you not to… but…”
Tor snorted. “No doubt. I'm not even making extras of these. I'll turn the templates over to your dad directly if you want, or whatever. These aren't something for the open market. Maybe the force lance for battlefield use, but who else would need it? I wouldn't have even made them if this Count wasn't being so insane about this. Sorry, Davie, but if he was just planning on giving you a beating, I would have just handed you the shield and flying gear and called it good, you know? As it is, if it turns out that's all he's going for, well, I think you should just take the beating and let it go. This could all go wrong in so very many ways…”
David nodded somberly.
“I know. I promise, if I can deal with this that way, I will.”
Rolph clapped him on the back and chuckled, sounding a little weak. No one said anything about it after that and Tor was able to spend the next two days making poison detectors instead of weapons prototypes. A few batches even got packaged up to go to peoples families, including Meredith Sorvee who he sent ten to, with written instructions. He'd kept up a steady flow even while working on the new fields for Davie, so a lot of people already had them, Tor had seen them at meals even. Sara passed them out for him, because she was really sweet that way, with some help from a few special school kids he didn't know, just setting up a table in the court yard and going down the list.
Wensa had at least backed off from mentioning how he didn't have anything for poisons yet, but she kept giving him sour looks every time they met. Dark things, like she felt bad about not having killed him yet. Or something at least. Tor couldn't think of what else she’d be thinking about him.
The night before Davies duel, the evening that he finally got to take the splint off, as Tor walked slowly out of the dining hall, he came under attack. A real one too, not just someone calling him names or glaring.
The person was masked, and too small to be a royal, probably at least, but wore a familiar gray skirt. Wensa.
She didn't do much, just kicked him down the stairs, a single stomp to the middle of the back which sent him flying down the first twelve feet or so, landing with a solid thud. Stone struck him over and over again as he fell. He couldn't even slap the shield on and then, as he turned to face her, he found himself all alone. Tor activated the shield and waited, then limped back to his room, his leg killing him. Rolph wasn't in, having some kind of big Prince meeting he had to attend with the Dean. His friend had just mentioned it this time, happy that he didn't have to pretend to be drinking to try and fool him this time.
Tor just sat in the room waiting to come under attack again, his shield turned on. Hastily he made a copy of the force lance he'd designed, putting it on a much shorter piece of copper tube, making a single cut in the metal for the activation sigil. Who needed a weapon like this? He asked himself sardonically…
Right, anyone that had a crazy Royal Guard after them. He built it as fast as he could, because he had to sit in the room without his shield while he worked. Then he waited.
As he really should have expected, nothing happened. Wensa was good about biding her time after all. Tor knew that already. She'd waited months just for this and probably wouldn't stop now.
About two hours later the door opened and he just managed to not hit Rolph with the force lance.
“Shut the door!” He must have looked a sight, because the Prince didn't hesitate, slamming and locking it quickly.
“What happened?”
“Wensa tried to kill me! She kicked me down the stairs outside the dining hall. Well, I don't “know” it was Wensa, right build, gray skirt, but she wore a leather mask so that I can't really lodge a complaint, after all, I can't prove it was her, right?” Tor gripped the force lance tighter, which got Rolph's attention.
“That's not… one of those explosives is it?” He said the words softly, as if he talked to a mad man. Rolling his eyes Tor snorted, a slightly more derisive sound than he'd really intended.
“Gods no. That would be moronic. I'm not that far gone yet. It's just a force lance, better that I just die myself than accidentally take half the school out. I just didn't have anything else that would work better for this, so I had to make do. What did I do to her anyway?” He touched his face, bruised in at least three places by the feel of it.
“I've never done anything to her at all. Is she… insane or something?” Tor knew he sounded scared and didn't care. The woman had orders to not kill him or even attack him, from Count Thomson, unless the King had revoked those orders? His own voice going soft he asked Rolph if that was possible. Could the King have ordered his death?
“Not likely. If he had, well, he'd probably either send the whole army, or he'd order you to just do it yourself. And given that you would, killing you would just be foolish, right? Waste of resources if nothing else. I'll check, but I'm almost certain that this isn't anything to do with him. If it is, then it's probably a miscommunication. That can happen… You know, he tells Wensa or her commander that Tor, his good friend, needs to be taken care of, meaning give you hugs and cuddles, and somewhere along the line that gets taken to mean “kill Tor” or something like that, but… If that were the case, she wouldn't have worn a mask and really Tor…” The Prince looked strained.
“She wouldn't have stopped until one of you was dead. The Royal Guard don't. That's why I figured that at the shield test she wasn't really trying to kill you. If she had, then you, or she, wouldn't be alive now.”
Rolph went out, wearing a full shield and carrying his own force lance, which wasn't, he told Tor, half as powerful as the one he had, even though it was military grade. The plan was to alert the authorities and see what was going on. Worse come to worse Tor would at least know that he had to run away or something, right? It made sense, but Tor worried about his friends’ safety and told him so. Rolph just shrugged and gave him a careless grin.
“For once it doesn't seem like anyone is coming after me at all. Go figure, huh?”
When Rolph came back, the Dean, Kolb and to Tor’s surprise, Wensa, came with him. Tor pointed the force lance, shield already activated.
“Don't put your hands near those pockets… Please.” Tor wondered what the hell was going on. Had an order to kill him gone out then? Had they all come to make it happen? He didn't think Rolph would, even if it meant going against his own family, not without explaining it to him first at least. And the Dean? Well, the guy knew poisons, but Tor wouldn't fall for that, and his shield wouldn't let them through. Maybe he was a brilliant fighter or something in his own right… Kolb?
Yeah, the man would kill him if ordered too. That just made sense, he was a Knight after all. He had to follow the King’s orders without question. Normally not a problem, Richard not being unreasonable. Why then? What was this all about?
Wensa stepped forward slowly, hands raised above her head, properly raised, not ready to fight.
“It wasn't me. I was with several other instructors at the time of the attack. They've already vouched for me.”
“Right. Like you couldn't just order them to lie for you? I think you'll have to do better than that. I was there after all. I probably have your boot mark on my back from the kick that sent me down the stairs….”
Rolph walked around him slowly and asked him to lift up his shirt. Right, he'd made it so that no one else could do that, to prevent clothing from being used as a weapon against the shield wearer. It was a hard field addition to pull off and as far as he knew, totally unique to his newer work. He lifted it awkwardly, his left arm bruised and tightening up painfully; he pointed the force lance and readied himself to fight just in case. When Tor got his right arm behind him, pulling up the hem for Rolph to take a look, Wensa rushed him.
Of course she did.
Just like he'd suspected she would, trying to finish what she'd done earlier.
He triggered the force lance in his left hand, which blasted the older woman back into the wall, breaking the door frame next to it and after a few seconds, punching her through the wall itself. On the ground outside she stood up, not even affected by the blast it seemed. He hit her again, which took her off the stone walkway and kept pointing the device at her, which drove her into the ground with a sickening thud. She rolled when she hit the ground, stood up and turned to run away. He swept the weapon over her. How was this happening? It took him a second to figure it out. She had a shield on. How had she gotten one? Had she stolen it?
Rolph jumped back. “Crap! Run, get away… Were losing him!” Everyone else standing behind him reeled. Had Wensa managed to attack them somehow? Some kind of poison or a special mind effecting military field? Well, it wasn't getting through the shield he wore, so he jogged to the stairs and walked down them slowly. His leg just wasn't up to running them yet. Especially going down.
Tor kept hitting Wensa with the weapon over the banister and then as he traveled towards her. At least it was an old shield, not one of the new ones that would stop a weapon like this. Or not one that he'd made. He'd assumed it was one of his, but as a Royal Guard, she probably had one on all the time, right? Still, he wouldn't be able to do anything to really stop her, not with a shield like this one on. Unless…
He'd built a field that passed through the shield, two of them in fact and others that could work inside of a shielded space. What if he did something similar now?
The woman tried to get away, rolling again, with agility that would have put an acrobat to shame. Tor kept her off balance the whole time, hitting her without stopping. What should he try first? A smile crossed his face. It was a long shot, but it could work…
He built a small field, one that simply mimicked natural sun light, it wasn't a strong thing, barely enough to flash for a few seconds before it faded, but he built it right in front of her eyes. In the dark courtyard that should blind her for a minute or so. She didn't cry out, so Tor didn't know if it worked or not, but she seemed to have a harder time getting up as he closed with her, at least a little, so maybe it had a bit?
Once close enough Tor held the lance on her and held her pined to the ground with enough force that the woman probably couldn't breathe, shield or not.
“Why do you keep trying to kill me?” He asked his voice sounding strange and gravely, like he'd been screaming, which he knew for a fact he hadn't. “Why?”
No answer came. Of course not. She wasn't afraid of him after all. What could some baker’s son do to her anyway? He might make her uncomfortable in the moment, but that wouldn't get him any answers, she'd just wait and come back for him later.
“Look, tell me why you keep trying to kill me now or…”
It took way too long for real dramatic effect, but much like he had with the blip of light, he created an explosive field not three feet from her head. The sound had to rock her, even if nothing from it touched at all through whatever shield she wore.
“I can build one of those inside a shield space you know. How about the middle of your head? I don't think even a rock head like you would survive that. Now, tell me why.” He smiled and stepped closer to her, until only about ten feet of space sat between them. “Now!”
The voice he heard next was soft and wasn't Wensa's at all.
“Hey… Tor, what's going on?” It was Trice, standing beside him, with about half a dozen people behind her. Rolph and the people from the room. Sara and Count Thomson had come out too. Good, maybe they could help?
“Wensa tried to kill me, then faked up an alibi. We were all talking about it, peacefully even, and she attacked me again. In front of Rolph, Kolb and the Dean, so I have witnesses this time. Kind of confirms it was her originally, doesn't it? Not that it matters. I'm trying to get at why right now. Anyone have any ideas about what to do? How the hell did she get a shield anyway? Did she steal it or, I guess Royal Guards don't steal… Did she make someone give it to her?” His breath came in pants. Mainly because he was stuck now. What could he do? Kill her? He thought he could. He probably could create a small explosion in her head, at least with her pinned down like this. It would take a few minutes, but he could do it. Well, he could build the field. But… he wasn't a killer.
Even holding her down like this was hard. Not hard to do, but it felt… Mean. Wrong. But if he let her up she'd attack him again. Not that it would be right now, but… later, when he couldn't defend himself, in his sleep maybe. Did he have a choice?
His fiancee looked around and shrugged. “Sounds reasonable to me. He's not in a combat rage. I've seen that on him and even if he was, Tor kind of stays reasonable compared to most people, however that works. So, why did Wensa try to kill him? Tor wouldn't lie about something like that. Really, I don't know if he can lie at all, so…” Her voice went into a questioning tone at the end and her hands came up. Right, now what.
“I think I really can kill her through the shield, we can't have someone like her running around trying to murder people, can we? I don't want to kill anyone, but, I don't think she's going to leave me any choice. First she tried to kill me at the shield test and no one believed it, because I wasn't dead, which I guess is fair enough, since she's a Royal Guard and all. Then she threatened to poison me. When I took that off the table, she tries to kick me down some stairs so that it would look like an accident. Which, considering she has orders not to kill me from a Count… Those still hold right?”
Tovey nodded, but he too looked at Rolph. “Not countermanded?”
The Prince nodded in return, if a bit slowly. “Yeah, I checked, nothing like that from the Capital at all. Didn't think there would be.”
When Tor looked up four forms stood around him holding weapons of some kind. It was almost like they'd just appeared in the air, rather than walked up normally, but he knew he was more than a little distracted. Two popped to mind as being instructors at the school, the other two as weapons instructors. The other Royal Guards? Great. The situation hadn't been complicated enough already. Well, it showed that this wasn't just Wensa then, didn't it? The silvery glints in their hands looked deadly, especially being pointed at him.
“Down!” Tor yelled as they opened fire on him. He spun, sweeping his little force lance across where they stood. They, unlike Wensa, hadn't gotten hold of any shields, at least not any good ones. They flew back hard and didn't get up quickly. The lance he had didn't hurt them directly of course, it just made their bodies move after all, but the impact against the ground probably stung. Without hesitation he hit Wensa again as she struggled to get up, probably to attack him again.
“Uh-un. Your friends aren't going to help you out of this.” It took going back and forth several times, but he finally had all the other guards knocked out about half a minute later and didn't lose Wensa either.
“Right so, if there's no order to kill me from the crown, then all of these royals guards have gone rogue? Little hard to believe. I need an explanation on this pretty quick here Rolph… I don't know what to do, but I know I can't leave them alive to attack me later, Royal Guards don't stop. You told me that yourself. So… I mean, I have to defend myself, right?” His voice had taken on a panicked air but no one laughed at him.
Not knowing what else to do, he started building a small, tiny really, explosive field inside Wensa's skull. One with a simple mental trigger on it, so that he could set it off on command. It took about half an hour to form something that wouldn't just fade in seconds, but in the end he had one ready. During that time he'd had to knock out the other people trying to attack him several times, because they really didn't give up. It was both scary and annoying. Finally the Dean and Rolph managed to convince them to put their weapons down and move back.
“Alright, Wensa… I just built an explosive inside your head. What you're going to do right now is deactivate the shield you're wearing and go to whatever lock up we have around here. Then you'll stay there until we decide what to do with you. If you try to leave, no matter where you go, I can set this off. If you attack me I'll set it off too. Even if it means getting your brain splattered all over me. Do you understand? You have… Let's say, ten seconds, to comply.”
He turned off the weapon in his hand and put it away. It looked all confident, but what he'd just said about the field in her head, most of it was a lie. Showed how well Trice knew him, didn't it?
Yes, Tor could trigger it right here, watching her from ten feet away, but twenty feet away would be hard and fifty impossible, at least under this kind of stress. Plus, in about ten minutes the field would fade totally. He could set it off now, but the effects just wouldn't last all that long without a lot more work.
The woman glared at him as she got up, which earned her a blast from the force lance, that he pulled out almost instantly.
“No… I said deactivate the shield, take it off and give it to Trice. Then, if you know what's good for you I suggest you don't try to attack me or even look at me like you want to. This isn't that hard, really. Just stop trying to kill me, and don't force me to kill you.”
Seriously! What did it take to get this woman to not try and attack him? She finally tapped the field, but only because Rolph and Tovey both ordered her on that point directly, then she took it off and passed it to Trice. It wasn't around her neck, just in an inner pocket. Tor walked all the guards, hands high over their heads to a small building that he'd never noticed before, just off the commons. It wasn't that he hadn't seen it, just that he couldn't notice it, at least not without focusing on it tightly, which in the nearly three years he'd been at the school he'd never had any reason to do. Some kind of mental disruption field? That made a certain kind of sense. It had two small holding cells in it. Once inside it was easier to notice by far, like a normal building almost. Tor had all the Royal Guards locked up inside a minute and a half, then he spoke to them through the bars.
“Right. I have no doubt that any of you could escape from here within moments. If you do, if any of you do, I'll be forced to protect myself. That means detonating Wensa first. It's true, the rest of you could run away and I can't do much to you. But I still suggest that you wait for this situation to be resolved first.”
Then he walked out. Everyone but Rolph followed. Staying to talk for some reason. He caught up to them in the commons a few minutes later, looking… vexed. Tor shook badly, pure fear reaction, but Trice held him anyway, even if he did shake like a tiny dog in her arms. No one said much for a long time. It was the Dean that spoke first.
“Well, that seems settled for now. I don't think anyone will risk going anywhere for now. They should know that you can't have built a field strong enough to last the night in her head in that time, but then again, you've done a half dozen other things they probably knew couldn't be done already, so they may not want to risk it.”
Rolph shrugged, looking at Tor directly.
“Wensa swears that she didn't attack you on the stairs Tor. She said that she only went after the weapon in our room because she saw an opening. It is how their trained, I can vouch for that. You pointed a weapon at her, so she responded as best she could. It also explains why the others came after you like they did. They didn't see you protecting yourself from an attack, just subduing one of their own. I ordered them to all stay in holding for now, just so you wouldn't have to try and fight them. We wouldn't want you to get hurt or anything, right?” Rolph gave him a smile as if he was placating Tor, which was appreciated greatly. Much better than the chewing out he probably deserved for letting all this happen, even if he didn't know how it could have been avoided.
Tor nodded and took a very deep breath, trying to regain his composure a little. Those people might have lost temporarily, but the same trick wouldn't work twice. Wensa had nearly gotten him on the stairs, even though he walked around wearing a shield almost all the time. He'd never even thought about someone just kicking him down some stairs! What else had he missed? If that had been a knife or a cutter instead of a foot he'd be dead right now. Did he have to live his whole life with a shield on?
Tor pointed this out to everyone, how clever the attack had been. Kolb shrugged and told him that it wasn't Wensa. Him saying that took Tor off guard.
“But… mask aside, it fits, about six-four or so, lean and strong, gray skirt… I know that Royal Guards have all those oaths, but if she's gone crazy or something those wouldn't hold, besides, she doesn't even know that I'm a Countier right? So she just thinks that killing me is a game or something maybe? Let's face it, to royals and their guards, killing a commoner doesn't mean very much at all. About the same as a goat or pig really. So if I'm just some regular guy to her…”
Rolph got a thoughtful look. “Well, I haven't told anyone at least. But she really does have an alibi and I don't think she forced anyone to say she was there. They didn't seem stressed about it when asked at least. Of course if it wasn't her, it does leave the question of why anyone would attack Tor. And dressed like that, it would have to be a setup. So something near professional level at least. I'd guess that some of the special school students might be able to think something like that up, right?”
His tall friend looked at the Dean, who nodded.
“Yes, but… well, Mr. Baker is rather popular over there just now. With the entire school I'd imagine. Those poison detectors he gave everyone… Well, if anyone needed funds badly enough to kill, they could just sell theirs and get two or three thousand gold for it right now. More than killing a schoolboy would earn them, by far… Even a noble one.”
That brought up the whole Countier thing, which oddly enough, past the story itself no one seemed to care much about. Given everything, why would they? Everyone was someone here, right? Even him, it turned out. His title as Squire actually meant as much or more in all real world terms. For that matter giving out flight fields and poison detectors meant more than either of those things to most people, according to Kolb and the Dean.
Kolb gave him a tired looking smile.
“A lot of people here have titles. Not many of them keep the soup from killing a body though. That kind of thing has an impact on people.”
Before going to sleep Tor made up a complete set of weapons, an explosive and one of the air thingies. It got him to bed really late, but he just didn't know what Wensa and her group would come up with next. Then, reluctantly, Tor got up when Rolph shook him awake. He packed up everything and tucked the weapons into the little inner pocket of his brown trousers. It wasn't good for quick retrieval, but he could, possibly, buy time by already having his shield on. He activated it on the way out the door. Rolph gave him a funny look, but didn't say anything about it overly.
The big redhead shrugged.
“The dueling ground is on the outskirt of town, we can fly out after breakfast. I heard that a few nobles have come to see it, so maybe we'll see some familiar faces?” Rolph obviously knew something about who was coming, but didn't want to give away the surprise. Tor didn't care, as long as David lived. He just hoped that whatever this Count was bringing to the party the boy had enough to make it a fair fight.
Tor could barely eat, as worried for Davie as he was. Rolph ate well enough, but then he seemed to think everything would be all right for some reason. Tor could only hope that was the case.
The dueling field, like the weapons range, was a bit of a disappointment. It was just an empty field of short cut grass. Or it would have been empty if there hadn't been about a hundred and fifty people standing around the center, most of them tall and well dressed. Two camps had formed already, one around David and one around a huge man that must have been about eight foot tall and who wore very nice looking armor, shiny silver, polished to a mirrors gleam and obviously heavy. He swung a huge sword, one that must have been about five foot long and had to weigh forty or fifty pounds, at least if it was made of steel, which it looked like from a distance to Tor.
Jerk. Bringing giant swords to kill a boy. Probably trying to make up for his small manhood.
David on the other hand had, almost comically, had dressed down to a pair of plain student browns, real canvas ones, not silk, and held nothing in his hands at all. He had his flight gear on and a little leather bag on his left hip, just about big enough for all the weapons and possibly a couple of sandwiches to spare. He didn't look overly worried. Either the boy felt truly confident or was hiding the fear really well.
Either way it was incredibly brave.
Tor held back and waited for whatever else the Count would pull out. The armor was pretty, but in a fight to the death, or in his case to a horrible beating that could at least lead to death, it wasn't enough. He probably had a shield on under it and wore it only for effect. Same with the sword. It looked cool, sure, but as a Count he'd probably have military grade weapons on his person at all times anyway just as a matter of course. Rolph did, and wore a shield around too, even if he didn't turn it on most of the time. So the other stuff was just to throw David off?
Or maybe make him look good while he tried to kill a fourteen year old boy just to spite a third party? That… made some sense. After all, what kind of an ass set up a little kid for murder like this?
A royal one, obviously.
After half an hour a man checked a pocket watch openly, using large and obvious gestures that got everyone's attention easily. This gentleman wore red from head to foot, except for the gold buttons on his jacket. Even the leather shoes were a bright and matching color. He yelled loudly, his voice carrying over the whole field.
“The Count William Cordes Smythe Rodriguez gives greeting to all present, and states that the folly of offense given him is too great to let lay. He asks that all present know that this boy, Countier third, David Edmund Derring, has offended the Counts sensibilities… by daring to exist.” The man cleared his throat and looked embarrassed to be there suddenly. Tor didn't blame him. Calling a boy out to his death because you decided he shouldn't exist? It was about the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. Rolph winced.
“He's compounding the insult so that Davie can't pull out without being dishonored. It's a setup, obviously. What kind of a monster kills a kid because he's mad over some vote that the father made?”
Tor reeled physically, actually taking three full steps back before he caught himself and stopped. This was over a vote? He'd thought that the Count was at least angry over something somewhat reasonable, a border skirmish or maybe sleeping with someone’s wife, or daughter maybe. Tor had kicked a Duke in the groin and the guy hadn't challenged him to a freaking duel. A flash of anger took Tor then, acid started eating at his stomach and Rolph's eyes went wide and he hit his shield.
“Um, Tor? I… just remember your shield this time…” His large friend whispered. Tor shook and ground his teeth a little.
This was… ridiculous didn't cover it. He was of half a mind to go and give the guy a piece of his mind right here and now. Before he could, a man dressed in all green except for the silver buttons on his coat stepped forward and addressed everyone present.
“The Countier third, David Derring gives greetings to all and offers full apology without reservation for his trespass of “existing”.” The crowed actually chuckled. “Further, out of great kindness and compassion, he offers the Count his life. Do you yield sir?”
Laughing the man started to wave this away. Before he got his hand half raised Davie shot up in the air to about a hundred feet pointed one of the weapons at the ground a good ways away and triggered a full minute of explosions. Then he landed and bowed towards the Count.
The man in green nodded to the boy once, and turned, yelling again.
“Again, the Count is offered his life. Do you wish to yield sir?” Yelling or not the man was a pro and kept the tone bored and bland.
Tor felt like wetting himself from all the noise personally, but thankfully didn't really have to go.
Instead of yielding, like a sane person, the Count demanded that the boy be stripped of all weapons and shields, so that they may meet on a “fair” footing. After all, borrowed or stolen weapons didn't count, only those owned by the combatant outright. Rolph patted him on the shoulder.
“You're up Tor.”
Right. He walked to the center of the field, near but behind David.
“These weapons, shields and flying gear belong to Countier David Derring, given by me personally, without reservation or outstanding debt of any kind, which I believe makes it legal for him to have?” He looked around to find that most of the crowd was nodding. Good.
“Further, if you want to demand a fair fight, how about you don't pick on a boy you've never even met? What the heck is with that anyway? Are you just a bully or are you actually insane? If you want a fair fight maybe you should kneel down so that you're at least close to the same height you over grown moron! What, are you afraid that if you faced someone not still in their first year of school it would be too much for you? Even making this challenge marks you as a coward, doesn't it? How about you withdraw now and save everyone here a lot of grief and heartache later instead of trying to act like this is anything but you having an ego issue and taking it out on an innocent person? Are you really so vain and… and evil that you'd attack a little boy because your angry at his da? If you want to fight so bad, why don't you try me instead? At least I'm old enough to need to shave each morning. No, wait, that would be too much for you wouldn't it? I'm sure we can scrounge up some six year olds for you to choose from if you don't mind waiting a minute. Perhaps my little sister, since you seem to like making sure the fight can't possibly be fair at all.” Tor shook a little in rage. Not combat rage, just the real kind for once.
OK, so it was a bad plan to taunt a man in armor who was holding a sword, Count or not, but the idiot was threatening the life of one of his friends. The laughing crowd seemed to be in support of his words. At least they were for the first ten seconds until the man in red withdrew the first challenge and threw down a second.
The Count challenged Tor.
He laughed.
Tor couldn't help it. Was the guy really that stupid? Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe he was just too pissed from the fight the night before to think straight, but either way he'd had about enough of this guy.
“Alright. Let's do this then. At least this time he has a reason to feel insulted. Moron.” Tor didn't wait for any fancy calling out by nicely suited gentlemen with loud voices. Instead he turned to the man in green and spoke softly, feeling like killing someone for the first time in his life.
“Clear the field please.” Tor growled, a low tone that most of the people around him probably couldn't hear. The loud guy near him swallowed and stepped back suddenly for some reason. Remembering not to turn his shield off this time Tor let his face pull into a grin.
“Clear the field!” The deep voice of the man in green rumbled so loudly that Tor could feel it in his chest standing over ten feet away. Did the man practice yelling then? It was impressive.
He couldn't take the shining giant in a fair fight, of course, and running away wasn't an option, not now. Instead Tor just walked towards the man, who dropped the sword and pulled an energy weapon of some kind, just like he figured would be the plan earlier. It didn't do anything to him, which caused the man to panic a little and scramble for his sword. Right, because the military grade weapon not working meant a sword would? Brilliant. The man should have run away right then if he couldn't bring anything more to the fight. Tor kept walking.
At about fifteen feet away the man charged. Tor just reached into his pants, understanding it probably looked a little rude when he stopped to think about it, which made him smile for a few moments and blush. Tor pulled weapons from the pocket as the man hacked at him vigorously. And uselessly. The ground popped and even rumbled a little under his feet. Tor largely ignored the other man all together while he worked. The guy had power behind the blows it seemed, but it didn't concern him overly. That could happen when you were eight foot tall and probably weighed close to four hundred pounds, most of it muscle. Tor sorted the weapons in his hand carefully and put the explosive one away again. No need to murder the guy, even if he was a bit cheesed at him. Not yet. Tor had all day if needed.
The force lance hurled the man back and then to the ground. Tor held him there for a while, then used the device in his left hand to make the air too hard to breath. The man gasped and choked on the ground, then flopped a little as he did. When it looked like he was about to lose consciousness Tor let him have a little air.
“Hey, would you like to yield? No real percentage for either of us if you die here today. I can’t say that I care overly right now myself, but it’s your call.”
“Never!” The man gasped.
“Really? That doesn’t make a lot of sense. Here, why don’t you take a few minutes to think about it? I’ll even add a “pretty please” to sweeten the deal.” Tor knew he must look and sound insane, but really just couldn’t care.
“Yield, pretty please?” The crowd chuckled again.
Tor held him in place and then took his air away again. The man struggled and his mouth opened and closed like a fish on land. Really it was pitiful enough that Tor felt bad for the Count. He didn’t want Davie to get hurt, but that didn’t mean he wanted to kill this guy either. Even if he was a mentally defective a-hole with a superiority complex.
He let the field go. The man sucked in air loudly, signaling he was alive.
“Really? We can’t just call this here? You don’t even have to yield officially, we can just stop and all go home as friends. I’ll even apologize for making fun of you if you do the same for calling out a fourteen year old boy by… mistake. Is that fair do you think? Anyone can get angry and make an error. Not everyone is willing to simply admit it though. Only the good ones. What kind of person are you sir?”
The man struggled to his feet, still breathing hard. Everyone just waited. After two minutes the man bowed his head.
“I apologize for allowing my anger at the Countier’s father to drive me to challenging the boy. It was wrong of me and I now see the error of my ways.”
Tor nearly passed out. He been expecting the fight to resume after the Count recovered a little, this… well only the one honorable thing to do now, he realized.
“For my part I must express my own chagrin at finding that I have maligned a good man in error. I let my own anger foolishly get the better of me. I apologize fully and unreservedly. I was wrong. Let’s set this aside and all leave as friends?”
The Count approached him and bowed from about three feet away. Tor bowed back; making sure his bow was a little deeper. Burks the room servant had explained all that kind of protocol to him before he left the Capital, mainly after any of it would have been useful to him. When he stood he put the weapons away in the inner pocket.
“So, boy, who is it that I fought this day?” The man sounded far more genteel suddenly. It was probably just a trick so that he could turn around and attack him later, send assassins or something. Tor almost cracked that the man had fought his own ego and won, but decided not to push it.
“I’m Tor.” He said instead.
“Ah… of course you are.” The man said weakly bowing slightly again.